


Bits and Pieces (of you and me and everyone else)

by 6am



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Multi, eventual happy ending hopefully, mentions of abuse, mentions of vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 33,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8351116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6am/pseuds/6am
Summary: Moments of life and (eventual) recovery from the time Saeran is taken from the hospital to some point in time after the End Party. Saeran centric, mostly chronological slices of life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> question: hey 6 why dont u fuckkng finish ur first fic before you write this one???? do ur homework?????? write a better title and summary?????????
> 
> answer: 
> 
> anyway the warnings for this bit are in the tags but they really only apply to part iv which can be skipped if you need to! the vomiting happens in part i but it's not very graphic and is only a few lines, pls be safe when reading!!
> 
> also a big fat thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos on Dumpster Diving!!! I promise i have a few pages written for it right now but i have like 17 different ways for that to turn out so im trying to find what feels the best
> 
> this fic also has some bits written for the next and prob last chapter but fuck if yall want something??? hit it up ill try and squeeze them in and ill give shout outs to the ones i can run with, i do eventually want some yooran in this but i want it to be natural and not like i just slammed it right in there. i tried to stick with the good time/bad time pattern for this but it really just ends up being happier stuff the deeper this goes
> 
> anyway lets get wild yall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> question: hey 6 why dont u fuckkng finish ur first fic before you write this one???? do ur homework?????? write a better title and summary?????????
> 
> answer:
> 
> anyway the warnings for this bit are in the tags but they really only apply to part iv which can be skipped if you need to! the vomiting happens in part i but it's not very graphic and is only a few lines, pls be safe when reading!!
> 
> also a big fat thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos on Dumpster Diving!!! I promise i have a few pages written for it right now but i have like 17 different ways for that to turn out so im trying to find what feels the best
> 
> this fic also has some bits written for the next and prob last chapter but fuck if yall want something??? hit it up ill try and squeeze them in and ill give shout outs to the ones i can run with, i do eventually want some yooran in this but i want it to be natural and not like i just slammed it right in there. i tried to stick with the good time/bad time pattern for this but it really just ends up being happier stuff the deeper this goes
> 
> anyway lets get wild yall

**i.**

 

The first week in the bunker is hell. Saeyoung is overbearing, it's a mess and things that are deemed too dangerous are missing within hours of Saeran contemplating them. He had been given the spare room that was obviously cleaned out in a hurry, and there's hardly any furniture. He spends most of his time in the full sized bed, hiding away from his brother and any form of stimuli.

 

The therapist and every other doctor had told him what to expect with withdrawal, that the IV he had ripped out of his hands and arms constantly would help to take the edge off. As much as he hates the idea of any kind of medication, now that he's had to move to the bathroom near permanently he wonders if maybe he shouldn't have let Saeyoung “rescue” him from the hospital. His body shakes uncontrollably and he's constantly between freezing and feeling like he's going to burst into flames, his stomach rolls with nausea and he stopped eating whatever was given to him days ago to try and stop the endless cramping and sickness.

 

He's gone days without food before, both in the room he'd been locked in as a child and in the confines of Mint Eye, it's nothing new. The only change is that this is out of his own decision, and not the mindless punishment and abuse of his mother and the claims of purification and lack of time to eat under the Savior's orders. He sits with his head in his hands, knees drawn to his chest as his breath heaves in and out in an attempt to fight the oncoming wave of nausea and the way his head swims with fever. Saeran feels like he's 10 again, starving and sick and hidden away somewhere dark. Alone, drowning in fifteen different kinds of sadness and anger and general misery.

 

Footsteps. Awkwardly spaced and heavy, the rasp of someone's side brushing against the wall (or is that his breathing?) He clamps his mouth shut, curling tight into himself like maybe he can shrink away, through the wall or just out of existence entirely. Mother's heavy footsteps stop outside of the door, she takes the handle into her forever shaking hands and it clicks quietly- he had forgotten to lock it again, but the outcome was always worse when he tried to shut her out, the hall light burns his eyes where it creeps between his arms and he doesn't dare acknowledge her.

 

“Are you sick again?”

 

Oh, right.

 

This isn't the room he was stuck in for years. This isn't his mother's house. He feels the lukewarm tile of the bathroom floor, the way the edge of the tub is digging into his spine, recognizes the deep voice of Saeyoung.

 

“Get. Out.” He manages, the anger in his voice shaken out by the tremor that rockets up from the base of his spine.

 

The door closes quietly, but he knows his brother hasn't left the room. He hears the soft padding of feet, the rustling of clothes and the soft thunk of Saeyoung taking the spot up against the door.

 

“You won't be as sick if you just eat,” His brother says softly, quiet enough to be heard but not too loud to make Saeran's head split farther open. “It doesn't even need to be a meal, just some crackers or chips, even water is better than this, Saeran.”

 

Ice suddenly shoots from his stomach at just the mention of food, and Saeran untangles himself from his little ball and leans just enough so his head is over the toilet. He retches, his throat burning as nothing but bile comes up, but his empty stomach demands to be completely void of anything. It feels like hours before he can finally shift away from the toilet, reaching with a shaking arm to flush.

 

Saeyoung has moved, kneeling beside him and resting a hand on his back. “Saeran.” He sounds like he's been punched, and Saeran can't stop the flinch when his brother's hand makes contact. “Oh my god, how long have you had a fever?” The hand is gone, and Saeran is torn between gratitude and mourning over the loss of touch. He doesn't want to be touched, he wants to be too dangerous for anyone to be around, he finds comfort in baring his teeth and he wants to be as acidic as his mouth tastes. He wants nothing to do with anyone, he hates being this vulnerable.

 

He wants to be comforted. His wavering mind goes back to when he was 10 again, not hiding from mother but his head in his brother's lap while he had fussed over him, hazy from illness but just lucid enough to enjoy his brother's presence. He wants to get over this illness in his body and his mind, wants to bare his stomach and not be punished for weakness- craving the solidarity of the relationships he'd spied on through the RFA app. He envies his brother's strength, the strength of his strange collection of friends, the vulnerability he can show them or that woman and the way they all support him regardless.

 

“I hate you.” The poison is easier to swallow, easier to spit back out into the world. “You're everything that's wrong with me.”

 

The sink is running.

 

“I should have never been born, I shouldn't have ever had to deal with being related to you. You left me and you only came back because it was convenient. I should have died and you should have too. You don't deserve anything.”

 

The sink stops.

 

Blessed coolness is pressed to the back of his neck, he feels little rivers of water slip under the collar of his sweat soaked shirt. Saeran feels like a kitten that's been scruffed by its mother, still spiteful but unable to move with the relief spreading through him.

 

“I know.” Saeyoung whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “...everything you just said is right.” The washcloth rubs gently onto the sides of his neck, and Saeran almost whines when it's lifted away even though any coolness has left the cloth. “I left you. I didn't save you when I should have, hate me however you want.” He reaches back from the sink to press the washcloth to his younger brother's cheek, and Saeran nearly sighs in relief. “But I'm going to help you now, okay? Hate me all you want, I don't care, but right now please let me take care of you.”

 

Defensive anger simmers in his chest, and Saeran means to swipe and smack at his brother's arm, but he's weaker than he had realized, his fingers only catching his wrist. He squeezes, digging his untrimmed nails as hard as he can manage into the thin flesh, he feels the muscles in Saeyoung's arm tighten and he wonder idly if he's drawn blood.

 

He is too weak right now to do the damage he so desperately wants, and he presses harder when he realizes that nothing has changed- he's still weak in body and mind. The washcloth is warm against his skin, he doesn't know if he wants it to be cool again. “I will never forgive you.”

 

His grip weakens, and Saeyoung slowly takes his arm back. The haze of the fever is coming back stronger this time, and Saeran finds it too difficult to hold himself in a ball any longer, he lets his head thunk hard against the wall of the bathroom. He's barely aware of Saeyoung clearing his throat, he would look over to see if he made his brother cry if he could keep his eyes open, if the light in the bathroom was on.

 

The sink is running.

 

**ii.**

 

Saeyoung makes at least ten phone calls daily. Saeran can hear him talking from his room where there is no door to muffle the sound, the door had been taken off of the hinges when Saeran had locked himself in for nearly 24 hours and had only come out at just barely after dawn to use the bathroom. The door was nowhere to be found even though his trip took maybe two minutes.

 

He talks to everyone in the ragtag group that is the RFA. He makes chitchat with Zen (what was his actual name again..? Saeran can't care enough to remember), swoons around the kitchen to butter him up before he asks for favors or just to mess with him, Saeran notices that some of the take out brought to the bunker has little signatures on the bag, he sees sharp handwriting on the napkins telling Saeyoung to “say hi to your bro for me!” and Saeran doesn't really remember if he's gotten those messages personally through the past two weeks of medication and sickness induced haze. Saeyoung seems more chipper now that he's actually making an effort to eat, even if he only manages a few bites and ends up pushing the other bits around before he returns to the darkness of his room with no door.

 

He sees his brother hunched at his computer desk, scribbling things down as he talks to Kang Jaehee, although he doesn't talk as much as he does with Zen and most of his answers are short “mm-hmm”s and “ah”s and more thank you's than Saeran has ever heard in his life. After these talks there's usually a change in their food, greener looking things and much more water and sometimes teas that are supposed to help with nausea, or headaches, or to make sleeping easier. Saeran doesn't care enough to really tell his brother that nothing really helps him sleep, but he knows that both of them are well aware of just how little the younger twin actually gets.

 

Talks with Han Jumin go roughly the same, but there's more talking and less note-taking when he talks to the director. There are several mentions of some girl named Elly and another named Elizabeth, and Saeyoung sounds wistful and laughs every time she's brought up, Saeran wonders if maybe his brother is being unfaithful. He hears something about therapy more than once and this is when he pulls his pillow over his head.

 

He doesn't call Kim Yoosung unless it's late, and most of the time they play some game together. Saeyoung laughs the most during these phone calls, and Saeran will never admit it but the clicking of keys and the soft talking and laughing is enough to lull him to sleep some nights. He remembers when they were young and his brother would sneak books into their room to read out loud to him in the middle of the night when neither could sleep. He wonders if Saeyoung always narrates what he's doing when he plays that game, but he doesn't complain when the gaming goes on for hours and he eventually dozes off to a weird fantasy novel of looting and raids and fighting trolls and men with lion heads.

 

The longest calls are always with that girl. Sometimes it's mostly joking and laughter, most of the time he seems to be trying to cook while she attempts to walk him through it on speaker, he can hear his brother grumping at the stove and then the girl giggling over the phone as she tries to take him step by step in making something. He has her on speakerphone a lot, when he's trying to cook, when he's tapping away at his keyboard, when he's moved his work to the small table in the kitchen/dining room to go back and forth between gadgets and lines of code flashing quickly and washing his face with soft green light.

 

Other nights they talk quietly, the phone pressed to Saeyoung's ear like it's a lifeline, he looks tired as he curls around himself and the phone, his voice hushed when he talks and his face solemn as he listens to her. He thanks the girl even more than he thanks the director's assistant, and he declares his love for her perhaps ten times as much, the sincerity and tenderness in his voice puts something weird in Saeran's stomach, and he turns to the bathroom when their talks turn hushed and something like worship, running the shower for probably too long to escape and to leave his brother to his calls.

 

He wonders when the door to his room will be given back.

 

**iii.**

 

Four months pass before someone comes over to the bunker for longer than a few moments.

 

Saeran is reading on the couch when he hears the ridiculous security system alert the entire bunker of the presence at the door. His brother seems excited as he prances to the door, humming nonsense as he flips a small panel and punches in a code to override the system.

 

“Baby!” He cries triumphantly, and Saeran can hear giggling as his brother scoops the girl into his arms and swings her around. Saeran ignores the laughter and obnoxious smooching noises coming from the front door, turning back to his book. He's not surprised, Saeyoung had sat him down for the discussion of letting her come over some time last week, he wasn't planning on talking with her or really interacting with her at all. Saeyoung had looked sad, but not surprised when Saeran had really only answered him to tell him.

 

The girl has grocery bags with her that Saeyoung decides are probably too heavy for her even though they aren't very full at all. Saeran peeks up from his book and eyes the duffle bag thrown over her shoulder- he's not surprised by this either, but he can stop the anxiety welling in his stomach at the thought of having to deal with her being here for more than an hour or so.

 

The grocery bags crinkle as the contents are unloaded, and Saeyoung makes a dreamy sound. “Finally, we can eat something that isn't burnt! Ahh, you're the best, MC.”

 

The girl- MC- only laughs again, digging through cabinets to find a pan. “It's nothing special, but there should be enough for you two to have leftovers for a few days. I didn't really know exactly what you or Saeran would like...”

 

His blood runs cold when she says his name. His hands crinkle the page in he's about to turn- she of all people shouldn't be talking about him so affectionately, was she stupid? Did she just forget everything he's put her through? It hasn't even been that long since they had escaped from Mint Eye, he had nearly killed his brother and her, and she's doing this? His head hurts, he's reminded too much of the night he had shot Kim Jihyun, the book in his hands reminds him of the weight of the gun.

 

Saeyoung comes over to the couch, his eyes bright despite the heavy looking bags under them. “Are you hungry? We're gonna make hotpot!” MC peeks up at them from the kitchen, she's _smiling_ at him.

 

Saeran doesn't know what to do.

 

His head hurts.

 

He knows somewhere in his mind he shouldn't fight, what little therapy he's had always wanted to focus on that when they weren't trying to get him to talk about his mother. It's easier, sure, the therapist had explained, but if he wants to get over any of this he's going to have to make changes.

 

But it's always been easier for him to fight, to be angry, and really he doesn't know what control feels like when he's not spitting and clawing his way out.

 

“Are you fucking stupid?” Yes. _Yes._ His stomach twists painfully but he can't help the surge of relief at the way his brother gapes- at the way that woman's smile falls right off of her face.

 

Saeyoung attempts to bounce back with a nervous laugh. “Well, fine. We can have something else! There's plenty of stuff so-”

 

“I don't care.” Saeran says coldly, closing his book with a snap. He almost expects it to turn into a gun. He wonders if he would shoot if he could. “Neither of you should care either. Make your stupid food, do whatever you want.”

 

“Saeran...” MC starts quietly, and something breaks.

 

_His head hurts._

 

“Don't. _Fucking_ talk to me _._ ” He snarls, taking a step toward the kitchen. She flinches. _Good. Great, even._ “You have to be a fucking idiot. Do you _really_ think that just coming over here and cooking is going to fix anything? That anything you do will work?” He laughs, erratic and too loud and he grins when she takes a step back. “Nothing is going to work. Both of us are fucked, and now you are too, if you had any brains you would've stayed away from that apartment. You should have dropped your phone and ran, should have left the fucking _country_.” He laughs again, both delighted and horribly sick at the expression on the girl's face and the way his brother isn't even looking at him anymore. “Stupid, _naive_ little girl. Have fun playing house, live in your fantasy world.”

 

The book falls to the floor, and nothing is said when he goes into the bathroom and locks the door. It's exhilarating, it's debilitating. He feels like he could run around the world three times without breaking a sweat but he's falling to his knees because they're wobbling so much he doesn't know how to stand. The bathroom spins, he wants to laugh but nothing comes out.

 

He's lost in his head for who knows how long. The hallway light that's crept under the door goes out, and he hears the bunker fall into silence before he even opens the door and nearly trips over the small tupperware of food sitting just in front of the door.

 

Saeran's stomach growls softly, but he knows that he can't eat without it coming right back up, even though his medicine hasn't been making him nauseous for weeks now. He picks up the food and takes it into the kitchen, placing it on the counter and staring at it for a few minutes before he walks quietly to his room.

 

His head hurts, but not as badly as before.

 

**iv.**

 

It's been five months since Saeran has seen the sky. He's tried to find ways to get around this, he's tried peeking out the door when someone comes in, he's found livestreams of sunsets and sunrises- hell he even watches the news in hopes of the live-shot of the city- but even the high quality monitor of his brother's television or his laptop isn't the same.

 

He wants the wind, wants the feel of the sun on his face or the still of night around him. Saeyoung lives like a hermit and that seems to work for him, but sometimes Saeran wonders when he gets especially bored and he's reading a book for the third time if maybe he's staying inside more because of his new house guest.

 

He knows that he's at least still in contact with the rest of the RFA, he hears the sudden barrages of notifications and the making of plans over the phone and the notices of when someone else will be coming over.

 

MC is over the most, even after the outburst last month. She doesn't seem eager to bring it up, or even remember it. She still smiles just as brightly and just as often even though he never returns them and ignores her often. Saeran isn't sure if he can still apologize or if it doesn't mean anything anymore. He doesn't know if he _wants_ to apologize.

 

She comes through the door in the evening, the security system now programmed to recognize her voice _but only if she smiles!_ (Gross.) “ _God_ it's cold out there.” She complains, shuddering as the door closes and she steps out of her boots. “It's so cloudy out, I hope it doesn't storm.” Saeyoung comes bounding from his room, saying something about how cold weather is best because something something disgusting gooey romance, but Saeran is distracted.

 

Clouds.

 

The last time he got to look at the clouds was from his hospital bed. His heart does a weird flutter and he's overwhelmed with the need to go out and see what she's talking about. For once, he's glad that his brother is so enamored with this woman, and he can easily sneak past them toward the door. He keeps an eye out as he slips whatever shoes will fit onto his feet, the door won't open without a code but he had memorized it long ago when he wanted out to leave. It crosses his mind that he could easily do that if he really wanted to, now that he can stand for longer than five minutes without feeling woozy. Later, he thinks, right now this is more pressing. His fingers dance over the number pad and he gives one more glance to see that Saeyoung and MC are more engrossed in talking about dinner than the great escape that's about to happen.

 

The heavy door is wonderfully silent as it opens, and Saeran steps out uncaring for the biting wind. MC was right, it's horrifically cold, but he walks quickly away from the door with his face turned up. There are so many goddamn trees around this bunker _he just wants to see the sky and_

 

Oh.

 

The clouds are thick, a sad looking grey. The sun is setting already and what little isn't covered by clouds is a deep purple, the clouds that aren't so big are stained a pretty red. He turns around slowly, never letting his head fall forward as he takes it in. The wind is brutal, whipping his hair around violently and his open jacket billows in the cold air. It does feel like it's about to storm, and he feels excited when he sees the flickers of lightening in the distance. What did his brother say about lightening when they were little? Something about counting between the flashes to see how close it is or something, he never really learned if that was true or not.

 

One.

 

Two.

 

Three.

 

Four.

 

He's grabbed tightly by the arm before he can get to five. He finally tears his gaze from the sky to stare at Saeyoung, too surprised by the sudden touch and the look on his face to muster up any fight.

 

“What the _hell_ are you doing?!” He cries, shaking the hand wrapped around his brother's forearm. “It's freezing out here and you just walk right out?”

 

“Let me go!” He pulls against Saeyoung's hold, but the older twin drags him back inside. “Just let me stay outside!” Please, _please_ he wants to beg. The sky is the only constant he's ever had, he just wants to see even just for a minute more. The hand on his arm starts to hurt, the skin being pinched between thin fingers.

 

He nearly trips when he's finally pulled back inside, and now he feels the fight rising in him but Saeyoung looks _murderous_ and Saeran realizes that he's never really seen his older brother angry before. Annoyed, sure. Serious, more often than not as a child. But never this hard mask of anger.

 

It's frightening.

 

He looks a lot like mother when she was mad.

 

Apologies tumble from his mouth before he can stop them, his begs for mercy pouring like water as the tight hand of panic takes its time in wrapping itself snugly around his brain and his throat. “I-I'm _sorry I'm so sorry I just wanted.”_ His mouth is too dry, like any saliva has somehow been turned to sweat that collects over his skin even though he's shivering from the wind. “I'll be – I'll be good. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'msorryimsorryimsorry _-mother I'm sorry-_ ” Saeran chokes when he falls to the ground when he's struck heavily in the chest. Ah, he's never been able to leave the house on his own before, he wonders how long this beating will last.

 

The pain never comes, the bottle never makes contact with his cheek, his hair is never pulled. He just feels warm, something is against his neck but it's soft, not the harsh bite of a lit cigarette being put out against the sensitive flesh.

 

Saeyoung has pulled him against his chest, his head pressed against his brother's collarbone as he weeps. Saeran slowly comes out of the flashback induced haze and his brain starts to work again. The chanted apologies are coming from his brother now, his grip is tight but not like the way it had been earlier. It's... comfortable.

 

“Saeran I'm _sorry_.” Saeyoung cries with a squeeze. “ _I'm so sorry._ You scared me when you ran out, I thought you were _gone_ I thought you _left_.”

 

Saeran sits there for several moments, a little too stunned with everything that just happened in the past few minutes. He was _outside_ , the clouds were thick enough to walk on and made him crave cotton candy. Now he's inside and trying to stop shaking after confusing his brother with their drunk of a mother. He lets his shaking arms rise enough to grab onto his brother's shirt, letting his cheek rest on the mess of red hair. He can feel tears fall onto his shoulder.

 

He feels funny. Almost like the first time the Savior had given him the Medicine. He's staring at the wall but he isn't really seeing it, everything feels like he's just a few seconds behind on processing.

 

“...I just...” He says quietly, he wonders if his eyes are working in real time when he sees Saeyoung lift his head to look at him. Are they both crying? Is that why his vision is so weird? “I just wanted. To see the clouds.” Ah, he is crying. Only a few tears carve their way down his cheek, they tickle a little when they collect under his chin. “She... she said it was cloudy. I wanted to see.”

 

x

 

Dinner that night is subdued, both MC and Saeyoung still smile and joke, but it seems fragile. Like they're both trying not to break each other, or maybe Saeran. He doesn't know. He pokes at his food, it smells nice, but his appetite isn't really there. They finally had hotpot.

 

MC is picking around for the last few bits of whatever she wants in there, Saeran doesn't really know or care exactly what that might be, but he wonders if he says that it tastes good if it will break this tiny world apart. He wouldn't be lying, but with how little he's eaten he thinks it might sound like he is.

 

“...an? Saeran?” He looks up from his plate, still wondering if maybe he's buffering when he looks at Saeyoung. “Do you want any more?”

 

“No.” He says quietly, looking back at his barely touched plate. He knows that he hasn't had enough to keep himself from feeling sick when he takes his sleeping medication, but the small pieces he has eaten feel like weights in his stomach.

 

Saeyoung tries to smile but he looks devastated, saying something that's supposed to lighten the mood as he stands to clean his and MC's plates. MC reaches to let her hand brush softly against his back when he walks by, and sighs when he goes into the kitchen. The remaining two sit quietly, the only sound is the sink running and the dishwasher being opened. Saeran thinks maybe he did break them, it isn't as satisfying as he thought it would be months ago.

 

She's pulled out her phone now, and she smiles a real smile and she flips through something on there before she takes a seat closer to Saeran. “Here.” She says, placing the phone on the table between them. He appreciates how careful she is about not accidentally brushing against him. “I like the sky too, so I take pictures a lot.” He looks down at the phone, blinks several times and hopes that maybe he's done with this weird phase of his body running at a different speed than his mind.

 

Pictures are nothing like the real thing, but this phone must have a _very_ nice camera.

 

“This one was a few days ago, it was really sunny but it was still cold!” She swipes to the next picture, and Saeran's chest unravels a little at the soft puffs of white and grey in the perfectly blue sky. “This one was a couple weeks ago I think, I thought that one looked like a cat when I took it, but it kinda looks like a foot now.” MC laughs softly to herself, putting her chin in her hand to look at Saeran. “Saeyoung is a little... overbearing, sometimes.”

 

Saeran scoffs, but doesn't look up from the phone. He thinks maybe he can see how that one cloud had looked like a cat. MC keeps talking. “But I think... he would have let you go out if you asked.”

 

“I have.” MC's eyebrows shoot up so far they disappear behind her bangs. “A while ago, but he told me it wasn't safe.” He pauses, reaching down to the phone to swipe back to the previous picture, soaking up the thin wisps of clouds. “...I wanted to run away then. This time I just wanted to go outside.”

 

They lapse back into silence. Saeyoung has to be listening from the kitchen. Saeran hasn't looked up from the phone yet.

 

“I'll talk to him about it, if that's okay.” He pauses mid-swipe, then finally looks up to see her smiling sincerely. “He wants you to be happy, Saeran. I do too... All of us do. I'm sure you'll be able to go out whenever you want soon.” The smile widens, this is the one she gives his brother, gives him sometimes. Perhaps the world hasn't broken yet. “In the meantime, do you want me to send you pictures? Oh! Do you have Slapchat? That way you don't have to give me your number if you don't want me to have it, and the filters are really fun!”

 

He has no idea what in the hell a Slapchat is, but he closes the photo application and easily finds her contact list and adds his number before pushing the phone over silently. Saeran doesn't comment when he sees her put cloud emojis around his name.

 

 

**v.**

 

Unknown has entered the chat-room

 

Yoosung★: HGSHAFD

 

Yoosung★: WHAT

 

Yoosung★: HOHONIIOOOO

 

707: lololololol chill dude

 

707: hey bb bro

 

Unknown has left the chat-room

 

“Saeraaaan!! Don't be like that!” Saeyoung whines, flopping over the back of the couch.

 

“This was a stupid idea. That one can't even type correctly.”

 

Saeyoung laughs, still bent awkwardly over the couch. “ _That one_ is Yoosung, he's harmless. And probably playing games right now, he usually spells stuff right. And if you juuust change your name in there and put in a profile picture~”

 

“No.” Saeran frowns, his thumb hovering over the log in button on the RFA application. Even if he had somehow officially been sworn in, as Saeyoung had put it with a dramatic flourish, he still doesn't know exactly how he feels about using the app like the rest of them do. If this is how one of them reacts, is it really going to be alright if he just acts like a member now?

 

“Dude, I can feel you thinking. Twin telepathy, remember?” Saeyoung taps his temple. “I already told everyone you were added in anyway, Yoosung probably didn't read the email.”

 

Saeran rolls his eyes, but lets his thumb fall on the button anyway. He might as well get the initial reactions out of the way.

 

 

Unknown has entered the chat-room

 

Yoosung★: THRHE IT IS AAIGAIN!!!!

 

707: bro chill

 

707: it's just Saeran lol

 

Unknown: ...Hello.

 

707: so formal!

 

707: aww he flipped me off T_T

 

Yoosung★: Saeran????????????????

 

Yoosung★: OH

 

Yoosung★: Your brother!!!

 

Yoosung★: Sorry!!!

 

Yoosung★: ah I feel stupid;;;;;;;;

 

MC has entered the chat-room

 

MC: Saeran!!

 

707: MC!

 

MC: SAEYOUNG!

 

707: <3

 

MC: <333333

 

Unknown: Can you two not flirt every second.

 

707: Love never stops

 

MC: Saeran, you aren't going to change your screen name?

 

Yoosung★: yeah!

 

Yoosung★: you can even but a little symbol by it like mine ★

 

Unknown: no thanks

 

707: o one sec

 

Unknown has left the chat-room

 

 

Saeran nearly throws his phone when the app force closes and the screen flickers several times. Could someone be hacking them again? He and MC are the only one left that hasn't started out in the RFA that even know about this app, much less how to get it, is it happening all over again? He looks to his brother, and any apprehension fades into a different kind of unease when he sees the mischievous glint in Saeyoung's eyes. The phone pings before he can ask just what in the hell is going on,

 

Jaehee Kang has entered the chat-room

 

ZEN has entered the chat-room

 

~♥SAERAN♥~ has entered the chat-room

 

ZEN: Who??

 

MC: LOLOLOLOLOL

 

707: fixed it~

 

Yoosung★: I thought you said you weren't going to put any symbols in!!!!

 

Jaehee Kang: Oh my...

 

ZEN: who the hell is this????

 

Yoosung★: It's Saeran!

 

Jaehee Kang: This is different than how I thought you would present yourself, Saeran.

 

Jaehee Kang: Regardless...

 

Jaehee Kang: Welcome to the RFA.

 

~♥SAERAN♥~: I DIDN'T CHANGE THIS

 

~♥SAERAN♥~: HE HACKED MY PHONE

 

ZEN: Is anyone????? paying attention me?????

 

ZEN: like at all???

 

707: lolol u didnt read the email either huh

 

707: THIS!

 

707: is my brorthrtjbgfnd

 

707:ajkhd'235ikl;;0

 

707:HE;O2LEP

 

MC: LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

 

707: IM BEING PUNCHESD

 

707 has left the chat-room

 

~♥SAERAN♥~ has left the chat-room

 

Jaehee Kang: …do you think they're alright?

 

Jaehee Kang: MC, are you able to check on them?

 

MC: They're probably fine lolol

 

Yoosung★: I hope Saeran doesn't hurt him...

 

Yoosung★: but if he does...

 

Yoosung★: I can get first rank in LOLOL!!!

 

Unknown has entered the chat-room

 

GIGANTIC ASSHOLE has entered the chat-room

 

GIGANTIC ASSHOLE: I'm alive!!!!!!!!!!!

 

GIGANTC ASSHOLE: and I think I'll keep this screen-name lololol

 

Jaehee Kang has left the chat-room

 

ZEN: WHO IS WHO

 

ZEN: HELLO????

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i wanted this to be a fiver like the first one, but the second and third are quite long and i want to update so pls take three much less heavy and hopefully more light and funny little things
> 
> no real warnings like the first chapter, but i actually wrote the part that actually inspired me to write this whole damn mess lol, shout out to part viii
> 
> and also shout out to all of you!!!!! wonderful people who have left me kudos and very very nice comments, u make my cold gay heart smile

**vi.**

 

Chatting with the members of the RFA is... fun.

 

Saeran doesn't say much very often, but he's more than content to watch conversations unfold most of the time. For an organization that started out as a charity, it seems more like Saeyoung had made the app just for fun. His brother still hasn't changed the screen-name that Saeran had forced onto his account weeks ago, even though the director and his assistant berate him constantly about it.

 

“I don't see any harm in it!” He had laughed, and then typed out the same response. “It's not like anyone we don't know can see what we say, I can't believe I never thought to change anyone's names on here before yours.”

 

“If you ever pull that again I'll break your phone.” Saeran gripes, not bothering to look up from his screen to watch the argument between Han Jumin and his brother unfold for the fifth time in the past hour.

 

“Aw, c'mon dude, that was funny. I've only heard MC laugh that hard a few times when I called her last night.”

 

Speaking of her... “Is she coming over tonight?” Saeran asks, trying to make it sound casual. Saeyoung nods, already looking happier just at the mention.

 

“Yup! She said she'd be on her way soon. She's grabbing takeout on her way.” He pauses in his conversation with the director, fixing his brother with a surprisingly serious look. “Is that... okay?”

 

Saeran furrows his brows, when did he care to ask? Oh, right. Probably after that outburst a month or so ago. “I don't care.” He says eventually, hoping that will be the end of it, but Saeyoung letting something drop is too much of a miracle to ask for. “She's your girlfriend, do whatever you want.”

 

“Saeran,” Saeyoung says, using the same soft voice he always uses for their more serious conversations. “You live here too now, you can say something if you don't like it when someone comes over. I know it's kind of weird that she comes over so much after... everything.”

 

Saeran continues to watch the chat unfold in front of him, but he doesn't read any of the responses. “I don't... hate her. I'm surprised she even wants to come here when I'm here now.”

 

He sees Saeyoung's announcement that he's logging out, but he doesn't stay to see the string of farewells that come in. “Hey, Saeran, look at me.” He requests, waiting patiently when Saeran takes his time in looking up from the phone in his hands. “Are you afraid that she doesn't like you?”

 

Saeran isn't comfortable with the sad look on Saeyoung's face, so he turns back to whatever nonsense is on the television. “I'm not afraid of her.” He says, only half lying.

 

Saeyoung chuckles softly. “That's not what I asked.”

 

The person in the commercial on the television is trying to push some weird looking toothpaste, but Saeran doesn't really process why it's so special. “...I don't want to hurt her. Anymore.” He says eventually, never looking at his brother. “I don't know what to do with her, though. I don't know how she keeps coming here and talking to me like nothing ever happened- I don't know how she even _looks_ at me.”

 

“Mm.” Saeyoung hums, running his fingers through his unruly hair. “I understand. Obviously there's some difference between us, but I've... I've hurt her a lot too.” Saeran glances out of the corner of his eye but doesn't turn his head. Saeyoung sighs, sounding even more defeated. “Before everything with Mint Eye, before we came to save you, I wasn't very nice to her. I tried really hard... _too_ hard to push her away.”

 

“You did?” Saeran asks, curiosity piqued. His memory is foggy, but he can't remember any time where these two weren't joined at the hip and joking around.

 

“I did.” Saeyoung confirms, smiling just a little. “I didn't want to hurt her, with everything I had to do for the agency, with everything that's wrong with me. I was a total _dick_ to her, dude. But she just kept trying, we were together in that apartment and she would _call_ me like three times a day at least.”

 

Something clicks in Saeran's head, and he finally faces his brother. “Is that why you two call each other when you're right next to each other?” He rolls his eyes when Saeyoung laughs, louder and deeper like he usually does.

 

“Yeah, isn't she cute? Old habits die hard I guess.”

 

“She's _strange_.” Saeran corrects, and Saeyoung laughs again. “I don't understand her at all. She could be so normal, but she's just here all the time. I don't know what made her think that going to the apartment when I messaged her would be a good idea.”

 

There's a _meow_ from somewhere in the couch, and Saeyoung pats around the pillows for his phone. It's MC, Saeran knows from the obnoxious text tone and the way Saeyoung smiles softly as he replies to the text message. “She is strange.” He agrees, thumbs flying across the screen when it buzzes again in his hands. “She should have ran off when she was put into the RFA chat, but she didn't even freak when I told her about the bomb in the apartment. Sometimes I don't even know if she's real, I'm so afraid that all of this is just a dream.”

 

Saeran pulls his knees up to his chest, picking at a loose thread on the hem of his pants. “I do too.” He admits, just louder than a whisper. “I have dreams about mother every night, that I'm still trapped in that room. Sometimes when I wake up I'm still there, and I don't know when I'll get out.” His hand twists the fabric of the sweatpants tightly. “...sometimes I think she is our mother. It doesn't make any sense, she doesn't even look like her, but it gets... hard to look at her. I don't know what to do when any of that happens, and she's still nice to even though I've only been shitty to her since I've met her.”

 

Saeyoung pulls himself from the corner of the couch, scooting over to the cushion next to Saeran. His arms are heavy around his shoulders when he reaches out to pull him to his chest, his glasses digging into the top of his head. “I'm so sorry, Saeran.” Saeyoung murmurs into his hair, his breath coming in a shaking exhale. “I can't ever tell you that enough.”

 

Saeran allows himself to be held, months of sudden hugs and touches making it just a bit easier to deal with the screaming in his mind to be let go. It's a conflicting feeling, where he's stuck between memories of being hit by their mother and the haze of memories from Mint Eye that strike at random intervals, but also the comfort of when they were younger- when Saeyoung would wrap around Saeran to keep themselves warm when mother took their blankets as punishment during the winter; the piggyback rides he would get when they would sneak out for ice cream. He tilts his head to it rests underneath Saeyoung's chin, listening to the soft thumping of his heart.

 

Saeyoung rocks from side to side slowly, breathing deeply before he speaks again. “You and MC are the strongest people I know, Saeran. _You_ are the strongest person I know. Everyone is so glad that you're here, that you're safe.” Saeran doesn't respond, he doesn't exactly know how. He's not used to praise like this, things being said that aren't focused on how well he's destroying the things around him. “I know that I'm screwing up a lot, both of us are, but I promise you that I'm doing my damnedest to make things good- for you and for her, for everyone we know. You are always my top priority.”

 

They stay curled up together on the couch until another _meow_ comes from the other side of the couch and Saeyoung reluctantly pulls away with a sniff, rushing to wipe his eyes before he picks up his phone. Saeran does the same when Saeyoung is fully engulfed in replying to his girlfriend. “Is she almost here?” He asks when he's sure that his voice won't crack.

 

Saeyoung nods. “She said she has a surprise for you, too. Get hyped.”

 

 _Oh god._ “What is it?” Saeran asks, eyes narrowing. “I hate surprises, just tell me what it is.”

 

“Then it won't be a surprise! C'mon, have a little faith, it's not anything crazy.” Saeyoung laughs, flopping back into the corner of the couch. “Orrrrr is it?” He laughs, wiggling his eyebrows. He laughs harder when Saeran rolls his eyes as hard as he can.

 

“You say you want to do good things for me but you do this to me instead.” Saeyoung gives him a playful kick, eyes never leaving his phone. “... what are you planning to do with her?” Saeran asks after a few moments of quiet, the drone of the newscaster on the tv barely filling the background.

 

Saeyoung chuckles, putting down his phone and dragging a hand over his face. “You make it sound so devious.” His hand falls onto his chest and he doesn't meet his twin's eyes. “I mean... I'm in love with her. It's crazy, I feel like I've known her for so long- longer than I've _really_ known her. We've been through so much together... I've put her through so much.” The room goes quiet, but Saeran knows the look on his brother's face all too well, something melancholy and doubtful.

 

“Well don't take all the credit.” Saeran snorts, and Saeyoung finally looks at him with his eyebrows quirked. “I'm the one who convinced her to go to the apartment, she could have left whenever.”

 

Saeyoung rolls his eyes with a laugh. “I guess you're right, I guess I should be thanking you for that.”

 

“Yeah, you should.” Saeran jokes, finally pushing the foot off of his thigh even though he knows Saeyoung will just kick it up again. “But honestly, are you going to marry her or something? That's what people do when they're as attached to each other as you are, right?”

 

“Oh my _god_ , don't even talk about that right now, I think I just felt my blood pressure spike.” Saeyoung taps both of his feet against Saeran's leg despite his protests. “I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it, but it's too early right now. We're all still... recovering from everything, I can't seriously put a wedding on top of all of this.”

 

Saeran smacks at his ankles harder than before this time, smirking at Saeyoung's over dramatic wails of pain. “What's that stupid shit you always say? Telepathy or whatever? You're stupid, you know?”

 

“What does that even _mean?_ ” He whines, rubbing at his “poor poor ankles”. “You want to make jokes about our unbreakable connection now?”  
  
“You're afraid she'd say no, even if you wait.” Bingo. Saeran's smirk doesn't falter at the shocked look on his twin's face, even if the telepathy wasn't some joke Saeran doesn't need it to read his brother. He's too obvious. Saeyoung gapes like a fish, his face growing redder by the second. “You're really an idiot, and so is she- there's no way she'd say anything besides yes. Ask some random person on the street next time you go somewhere, you're so goddamn ridiculous with her-” The front door alarm starts to go off before he can finish, and both men look toward the source of the sound.

 

_Goddess MC has arrived. You must smile or proclaim your love for God Seven for access._

 

“You two are disgusting.” Saeran groans, and Saeyoung cackles as he jumps up from the couch to answer the door. They share their usual greetings and kisses when the door opens, the serious talk from just moments ago seemingly forgotten as they chatter on their way toward the living room.

 

MC is grinning when she sees Saeran on the couch, obviously pleased with whatever her surprise is. “Saeran! I got something for you, it's in the kitchen!” She's doing a little dance on the tips of her toes, and she somehow looks even more enthused when he finally rises from the couch and walks into the kitchen, looking on the counter for whatever she could be talking about. There' are two boxes of takeout from the place they usually order from, a few cans of PHD Pepper... what in the hell is she talking about?

 

He's about to ask what it could possibly be before he sees a pint of strawberry ice cream off to the side next to a styrofoam box with his name on it.

 

“I had to ask Saeyoung what your favorite was, I don't know if the brand is any good, but it's the first one I saw and I wanted to make sure it didn't melt before I got here.” MC explains. “And I got the curry you like too! We got some extra kimchi too, so you two should have some leftovers for tomorrow.”

 

Saeran looks up from the ice cream on the counter, trying to process what he should really do with whatever he's feeling right now. She has to be the strangest person he's ever met in his life, including himself.

 

“... thank you.” He says quietly, and MC looks like her face is about to split in two with how big her smile is, and Saeyoung seems to be in the same boat.

 

“You're welcome, Saeran.”

 

**vii.**

 

The last time Saeran dyed his hair, the most clear memory he has is the smell of the chemicals and the way the sting of bleach on his scalp was numbed by the high dosage of whatever was in the concoction of pills he had been given. He and MC had passed by the hair care aisle of the supermarket while she was trying to find some kind of shampoo, he had slowed down when he realized what the little boxes of color were for.

 

The woman on the box has her lips pursed in a ridiculous pout, her neck tilted at a probably uncomfortable angle but the shock of red hair is incredibly similar to Saeyoung's hair- to Saeran's own natural color.

 

MC pulls him out of his head, coming back with a few bottles in her shopping basket. “There you are! I didn't know where you went for a minute.” She looks at the box he had been eyeballing, and her smile grows. “Oooh, are you going back to red?”

 

“I'm... considering.” He admits quietly, grateful for the sanitary mask that hides most of his cheeks as they flash hot. “It's coming through the white anyway, it'll be easier to keep up if it's red.”

 

She pulls one of the boxes from the lineup and deposits it into her basket. “Let's do it! I'm so excited to see you with red hair.” Her eyes glimmer when the smallest of smiles tugs at his mouth, he can feel the way his cheeks pull up. “Oh, and I'm paying for this by the way.” She adds cheekily, almost skipping away toward the check out lines despite Saeran's protests that he has his own money.

 

-

 

“You've never dyed hair before?” Saeran asks from his seat on the edge of the tub. “I thought women did this all the time.”

 

MC snorts and gives him a look. “We've been watching too many soap operas about teenagers going through rebellious phases. I've always wanted to dye my hair, but my parents wouldn't let me and all of the colors I wanted would have broken dress code.”

 

Saeran turns the box over in his hands for the third time. “The more I hear about school the more I'm glad I never went.”

 

“It sucked!” She agrees while digging through one of the drawers for a hair tie, and Saeran watches as she somehow turns it into a cute bun on top of her head. He's seen her do this countless times in the almost year that he's been staying with his brother but he still finds himself amazed at how quickly she tames all of that hair. Women are incredible. “I mean, I don't think it could be that hard, but I don't want to mess it up and waste the box.”

 

“You wouldn't be wasting your money if you just let me pay for the stupid thing.” He grumbles, reaching to push back against her leg when she playfully knocks her knuckles against his shoulder. “It can't be that hard, you should be able to just put it on and it'll work, right?”

 

MC holds her hand out for the box and glances over the instructions on the back again. “Maybe Saeyoung would know what to do, I'm sure he's had to dye his hair for work before.” She picks her phone up from the counter and starts to dial the number even though she could just yell down the hall for him.

 

“Uh, d-don't,” Saeran interjects. “I. I wanted it... to. Uhm.” Words. He hates words. He hates the overly warm smile that grows quickly on MC's face that he knows all too well.

 

She puts her phone down and does a little wiggle. “You wanted to surprise him?” She takes his silence as a yes, and giggles like mad. “He's going to be so excited! Oh, but now we _really_ have to do it right, hmm...”

 

They both sit in silence for several minutes, going over the few people they know carefully in their heads. Saeyoung is of course out of the question- Saeran doubts that his brother would be able to do it without making a mess of his head and the bathroom anyway. He doubts that Zen really knows what to do with hair unless it's giving him extensions and keeping it this dusty white color that Saeran has come to loathe. Jumin would just hire someone and he's not really ready for a complete stranger to touch him anywhere yet. Jaehee seems like a decent option, she's intelligent and and he's seen her work numerous times, but she's most likely too busy to stop by and do this before Saeyoung knows that something is up. So that leaves...

 

“Doesn't Yoosung dye his hair?” He asks, trying to remember the chat-rooms he's spied on and been a part of over time.

 

MC has her phone to her ear in a heartbeat, and she chatters excitedly about their plans, flashing a thumbs up to Saeran when Yoosung apparently agrees to come help.

 

-

 

Yoosung doesn't even spare a glance at the instruction pamphlet when he arrives at the bunker and comes into the bathroom. “It's really not hard at all, MC! The bottles even have numbers on them, see?” He passes her two little bottles, untangling the gloves that come in the kit from the paper as she looks over them.

 

“I just wanted to be sure I wouldn't make a mess, and you dye your hair a lot, Yoosung.” She hands the bottles back to Yoosung once he's pulled the gloves on. “Saeyoung wasn't out of the computer room when you came in, right? We're trying to surprise him.”

 

“Nope, I don't even think he noticed anyone came in, I'm glad all of the security questions aren't in Arabic anymore though, I really didn't want to buy a dictionary for it.” Yoosung gets to work mixing the contents of the bottles, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as the goop inside slowly fills the larger bottle. “I can't wait until he sees! Then you guys will be super twins!”

 

“Your hair is a little longer than Saeyoung's if you're trying to match more, though.” MC puts her hand under her chin, tapping her fingers against her lips. “I can cut it for you, if you want. I cut my hair and Saeyoung's a lot!”

 

Saeran wasn't exactly waiting for a makeover when he decided to dye his hair again, but his hair _has_ been getting longer in the back, and just the though of having something even remotely close to Zen's rat tail is enough to make him shudder. “...sure.” Go big or go home. “We might as well.”

 

MC looks too excited for just being able to cut hair as she rummages through the drawers again, making a triumphant sound when she finds a small pair of scissors. Saeran wonders just when he was deemed stable enough for scissors to be so accessible, even though the door to his room still hasn't been re-installed. (Saeyoung at least hasn't made too much of a fuss over the blanket he's pinned up to give himself some kind of privacy, but it's no door.)

 

MC reaches into one of the cabinets to grab a small towel. “Put this over your shoulders so you don't get hair everywhere,” She spins the scissors around one of her fingers slowly. “You might want to take your shirt off too, so we don't get dye on it. I can grab one of Saeyoung's old shirts for you.”

 

Saeran shakes his head, he really didn't plan on this taking so much time, he wants this to be done already. “It's fine.” He mutters, setting the towel to the side so he can pull his shirt off. He avoids both of their eyes when he lets it fall to the floor and quickly pulls the towel over his shoulders, letting one of the corners fall more to one side to cover his tattoo. MC has seen it more than enough, and he knows that Yoosung is still in the dark about just how nasty Mint Eye was- and who was directly involved besides Saeran- that he's still uncomfortable letting others see the dark markings on his arm.

 

MC hums under her breath as she gets to work, carefully carding her hands through his messy hair. He lets his eyes fall closed, pleasant goosebumps rising over his arms at the feeling of her nails scraping gently against his scalp and the gentle _snip snip_ of the scissors. She makes quick work of his bangs, ruffling them every now and then before combing them back out with her fingers. He only opens his eyes when she starts to chuckle.

  
“What's so funny.” He mumbles, and she laughs louder this time.

 

“You're just like Saeyoung, he makes that same face when I play with his hair.” She only giggles more when Saeran blushes. “Don't be embarrassed! It's cute, I thought you might fall asleep.”

 

“Having your hair played with is the best!” Yoosung pipes in. “My mom used to do it all the time when I was little, she said it was the easiest way to put me to sleep.” He sighs, smiling for a moment before he seems to catch on to the obvious difference between him and Saeran.

 

Saeran cuts him off before he can apologize, it's always an awkward subject between him and nearly every other RFA member that he'd rather not have brought up too often. “I don't think I could fall asleep with the bathtub digging into my ass if my life depended on it.” That gets a laugh from both of them, effectively dismissing any talk about his mother.

 

 _Snip snip._ “I'm almost done, and you can move after we put the dye in. Can you turn around? I gotta get the back too.” MC backs up to give him room while he swings his legs over the side of the tub, he watches a few wisps of pinkish-white hair flutter around in the air. He jumps a little when MC's hand rests just under the edge of the towel, feather-light against the knobs of his spine. “Ah, I think you've put on a little weight, Saeran. That's good!”

 

He looks down at the concave of his stomach and the way his hipbones still jut from his skin. “I guess.” He answers. “The doctors said it's not one of their top priorities anymore. There's always so much food here I don't know how I couldn't.”

 

“You and Saeyoung are so _luckyyy_.” Yoosung whines. “You get MC's cooking every night!”

 

“We still get takeout a _lot_ , and you know you can come over for dinner whenever.” MC says, looking over her shoulder while running her fingers through the back of Saeran's hair. He guesses he can understand why his brother almost constantly has his head in her lap when they're all crowded on the couch, but he hopes the shiver he can't fight when her nails graze the back of his neck isn't too noticeable.

 

It isn't much longer until she declares that she's finished, but she's _still_ petting him and even has the nerve to giggle again when he only swats weakly at her hand, muttering about how he's _not a dog for fuck's sake._ “Of course you're not a dog, we already have a puppy right here, huh Yoosung?” Saeran turns around as she's ruffling the other boy's hair affectionately, cooing at him even more as he makes a face and whines.

 

“I'm not a puppy!! Can I at least be a cool dog? Or like a lion or something?” He groans, but doesn't shy away from MC's hand when she stops shaking her hand around and combs through his hair instead. “I'm 21, that's not even a puppy anymore in dog years!”

 

Saeran scoffs and brushes some stray hair from his arm. “You couldn't be a lion if you tried.”

 

MC nods too seriously. “You're going to be a puppy forever, you're like a Pomeranian or something. But don't be mean to him, Saeran, he's the one dyeing your hair, y'know.”

 

He locks eyes with Yoosung, trying to look as menacing as possible half naked and covered by a ratty pink towel. “If you mess up my hair, I will kill you.”

 

Yoosung drops his head on MC's shoulder even though it's shaking with laughter. “I think _he's_ a lion!” He peeks over at Saeran again, who makes no change in his neutral expression aside from pulling his lips back from his teeth and making a soft, very un-enthused “ _rrr_ ” sound that has both of them laughing.

 

Yoosung finally comes over with the bottle of dye after their laughing fit, still smiling and biting his lip against more giggles when the dye makes a sound as he squirts some in his palm. “It might be a little cold and it smells funny, but it shouldn't take too much to cover all of your hair. It doesn't burn like bleach does either unless you're allergic to it.” He says the last part as he starts to work the bright red dye into Saeran's hair, his hand stopping on top of his head. “Oh, oh man we should have tested to see if you're allergic before I did this, huh?”

 

Saeran just shrugs, wrinkling his nose at the overly-sweet smell of the dye. “I didn't have any reaction o the bleach the first time, I don't think I have an allergy.” Yoosung's gloved hands don't feel the same as MC's, and he finds that his head is tugged to the side slightly every now and then with the sweeping motions. “... I don't think I did, anyway. It's a little hard to remember.”

 

Yoosung hums, putting more of the red goop into his palm. “Yeah, I guess that was a while ago and... some other stuff too.” His fingertips brush over Saeran's ear, making the strangest tickle Saeran has ever felt before he carefully swipes away the stray drops. “If you don't mind me asking... uhm, why did... they do that? Your hair I mean.”

 

MC looks up from her phone, sitting cross legged on the counter. Her cautious interest is obvious, and Saeran is sure she's almost asked that question several times before stopping herself. She looks stuck between asking for herself or scolding Yoosung for the question, but Saeran just sighs and puts his hand over the bits of tattoo that aren't covered by the towel.

 

“All of the other disci- members- did the same. White was supposed to be pure, and it was one of the first steps in... joining.” He looks down at his bare feet, then over at the little stars all over Yoosung's socks. “And at the time I didn't... want to look like Saeyoung at all. I was the only one who got a tattoo, and I figured that would separate us more than just dyeing my hair.” His nails dig into his arm, but he knows that he can't pull off the tattoo no matter how hard he tries. Yoosung and MC are quiet, the only sound being the soft sounds of the dye being pushed through Saeran's hair and the quiet background music of the RFA chat-room app.

 

“Well, look at you now.” Yoosung says quietly, and he's smiling when Saeran looks up from the floor. “You're part of the RFA, we're hanging out right now and everyone likes you, and your hair is going to be red again! That sounds like a lot of progress to me.” The blond leans so he can get at the hair just over the nape of Saeran's neck, the cold dye making him shiver a little. “I know that was... a bad question, sometimes I don't think before I talk.” He stands straight again, pushing some hair back from Saeran's forehead and smiling brightly. “But thank you for telling me, Saeran, I'm really glad you can talk to me and MC so openly.” He peels the gloves off of his hands and stuffs them back in the box along with the now empty bottles. “And you're done! We have to wait for it to set in, but you look even more like Saeyoung now!”

 

MC is smiling down at her phone now, sparing Saeran from the direct exposure to that happy look that he still doesn't know what to do with.

 

“Whatever, it's not a big deal anyway.” Saeran scoffs, rising from the edge of the tub and ignoring Yoosung's shock at how loudly his back pops. He doesn't look in the mirror, but he doesn't know if it's purely out of not being prepared for the shock of red that his hair will be or if he wants to surprise himself as well.

 

-

 

Yoosung holds the shower head after the timer on his phone dings, moving it just enough to get the biggest glops of dye out of Saeran's hair as he scrubs it down the drain. The strange fruity smell wafts powerfully over Saeran any time he moves his head, but Yoosung assure him it'll wash out sooner than later.

 

MC is nearly vibrating with excitement when she hands the same pink towel back, bouncing on the balls of her feet while he tousles his hair dry. “Oooh, I can't wait! Lemme see, Saeran, lemme see!”

 

“Just _wait,_ dammit, I'm almost done.” He huffs, scrubbing his head over once more. He keeps the towel on his head while he runs his fingers through the mess, his hair is _soft_ again- no longer coarse from several bleachings and just being unkempt in general. Saeran lets the now damp towel pool around his shoulders, looking over at the other two people in the bathroom.

 

Yoosung and MC stand there with their mouths hanging open. Yoosung lets out a shocked noise and covers his mouth, excited laughter spilling through his fingers. “It looks so good!! I was afraid I might have missed some spots, but oh _man_ you look just like Saeyoung!”

 

MC runs to the doorway and sticks her head out, calling urgently for Saeyoung and then laughing at the obvious scramble the older twin does from somewhere else in the bunker.

 

“What?! What?! What happened?” Saeyoung yells, running down the hallway. “Is something wr- oh? Are we having a bathroom party? This is a weird time to have one but-” His smile slowly drops off of his face when he looks over to his brother.

 

“Surprise!” MC grins, throwing her arms up in the air. “Yoosung helped dye his hair, what do you think?”

 

Saeyoung doesn't say anything when he takes a step into the bathroom, and he almost looks scared when he reaches Saeyoung. They stand silently, Saeyoung's eyes wide as he looks at his brother. “It's a little too bright to exactly match,” Yoosung offers. “But it should fade into a more natural color after a few days.”

 

Saeran stares at his twin in return, anxiousness rising in his gut the longer they stand in silence. Was it too much? Too soon? Does he even _like_ it? He jumps when Saeyoung's hand rests on top of his head, fluffing up his still damp hair with a soft laugh. “It-it looks good! I barely even remember the last time I saw you without your hair bleached...” Oh no. No. Nonono Saeran can see the look in his eyes, the little tears that are pooling up.

 

“Nope. No. I changed my mind.” He squawks when Saeyoung pulls him into a hug so tight he's sure he's going to pop, he should have _known_ that he would cry goddammit. “Bleach it back- _oh my god don't wipe your snot on me you disgusting-_ ”

 

“But we're _twins again_.” Saeyoung wails, half laughing and half crying. “My snot is basically your snot, it doesn't matter.” He looks over at Yoosung and MC, lifting one arm from his death grip to wave them over. “Oh my god, I'm so happy. Call everyone so we can have a real bathroom party, everyone come hug my brother and his beautiful hair.”

 

Saeran groans as loudly as he can when the hug turns into a group hug, in an attempt to maybe get his crying brother off of him and to try and channel out the way his skin crawls at the excess of touch. Yoosung and MC are more considerate at least, hugging Saeyoung more than him.

 

“I hate all of you.” Saeran says to the ceiling, and he groans so loudly it's almost a scream when he's only met with a small chorus of “We love you too, Saeran.”

 

 

**viii.**

 

MC: IT'S SNOWING!!!!

 

MC: SNOW!

 

Jaehee Kang has entered the chat-room.

 

707: WHAT

 

707: OH MAN

 

Jaehee Kang: Saeyoung, I'm glad to see you've changed your screen-name back.

 

Jaehee Kang: I'm excited as well.

 

Jaehee Kang: The view from my office is delightful. ♥

 

Jaehee Kang has shared an image.

 

707: IM GONNA SHOVE A SNOWMAN UP MY ASS

 

Jaehee Kang: …

 

Unknown: Good luck with that.

 

MC: lololol

 

MC: We should make snowmen though!

 

MC: Let's have a snow party!!!

 

Unknown: It's just snow.

 

Unknown: It's literally frozen water.

 

Unknown: There aren't even any clouds out.

 

707: SNWOWOW PARTY

 

Jaehee Kang: Please type correctly, Saeyoung.

 

Jaehee Kang: But, a get-together could be fun.

 

Jaehee Kang: It has been quite a while since I've gotten to see you, MC.

 

707: and me!

 

707: Jaehee, pls bless us with delicious coffee on this day.

 

707: **warm our hearts with ur presence**

 

707: and coffee

 

707: pls

 

MC: Please come see us Jaehee!!!

 

MC: We need to have another slumber party ♥♥♥

 

Jaehee Kang: As much as I would love to, I do have quite a bit of work to do.

 

Jaehee Kang: Mr. Han has several seasonal jobs that must be filed and meetings to be organized...

 

Unknown: tell him to fuck off.

 

707: ya!

 

707: our baby Jaehee needs a break.

 

707: and I

 

707: need ♥coffee♥

 

Unknown: Wouldn't a break be more enjoyable if she just goes home?

 

Unknown: Instead of going to a party.

 

MC: Saeran T_T

 

MC: Where's your snow spirit?

 

Jaehee Kang: Saeran does have a point, I suppose.

 

Jaehee Kang: I would like to go home and relax,

 

Jaehee Kang: But spending time with friends is what sounds the best right now.

 

MC: <33333333

 

707: I can hack into C&R for u

 

707: cause some technical difficulties that can only be fixed

 

707: by bringing me coffee!

 

Jaehee Kang: You do realize that Mr. Han has access to this chat-room, correct?

 

Jaehee Kang: and please stop begging me for coffee.

 

Unknown: He's drinking some right now.

 

Unknown: There is a working coffee machine in the kitchen.

 

707: But this coffee isn't made with love.

 

Unknown: That's harsh

 

Unknown: considering MC was the one who made it.

 

 

MC bursts into laughter, folding her arms and putting her head on them. Saeyoung yelps when he sees the message and nearly knocks over his mug when he throws himself over her back. “I'm sorry! I never knew you were the one who made it, I can taste the love! I'm overflowing with love! Caffeine and love flowing in my veins!”

 

“No, no!” MC snickers, her voice muffled under the weight of her boyfriend. “I see your plans, you love Jaehee more than me! I've seen through your coffee ruse!”

 

Saeran reaches for his own mug of creamer filled coffee from the flailing arms of his brother, ignoring the couple's antics for the chat they've abandoned.

 

 

Jaehee Kang: lol

 

Unknown: these two are impossible.

 

Unknown: save me from this hell

 

Jaehee Kang: Perhaps I should come over.

 

Unknown: and take me out of here.

 

707: Jaehee!!

 

707: Do come over!!!

 

707: Do not take my brother!!!

 

707: Do bring coffee!!!

 

MC: Since mine apparently doesn't have enough love in it.

 

Unknown: What's the point of calling it a snow party when none of us are going outside

-

 

Out of everyone else in the RFA, Saeran thinks maybe he likes Jaehee the best. She's quiet, but not in the way that makes him feel like he's being studied like Jumin. She doesn't try to make meaningless conversation like Zen does, and she keeps an appropriate distance that Yoosung still hasn't seemed to understand. MC is helping her read over the last reports she's brought over so she can relax fully without needing to rush to finish the next day.

 

“At least it's not another cat project.” MC says when Jaehee has sighed for maybe the hundredth time. “And you're almost done!”

 

“This is the last one, but there are so many other people involved who are not very good at managing their time. I'm still waiting on one more email, but I don't think he's going to respond anytime soon.” Jaehee takes her glasses off and rubs her temples. “Staring at my computer won't make him reply sooner, so I suppose I am finished for now.” MC whoops and carefully jogs the papers in her hands.

 

Saeyoung makes a whoop of his own, although it's muffled by the pen between his teeth. He and Saeran are both huddled around his laptop, eyes scanning the code that's being typed at a ridiculous pace. “You can't make a toy that's going to shoot fire.” Saeran says when he sees the command appear on the screen.

 

“You're not the boss of me.”

 

“It's a _duck_ , shithead.” Saeran smacks his hands away from the keyboard, tapping back up and removing the offending code.

 

“I agree.” Jaehee nods. “If it's supposed to be for children, I think fire is unnecessary.”

 

Saeyoung grumbles about his creative genius going unappreciated, but doesn't look up from where he's scribbling design plans on a napkin. “First the wings were too sharp, now I can't even have fire. You're killing me here, Saeran.”

 

“I think he's trying to keep _you_ from getting hurt, Saeyoung.” Jaehee chuckles, turning to MC. “Oh, by the way, I brought movies over, and I picked up some face masks that Zen recommended on my way here.”

 

MC looks ecstatic as she leaps from her chair. “Yes!! Spa night!! I finally found my nail polish, are the masks in your bag? I saw some nail art on Tripter I wanna try.” She scampers off to the bathroom, coming back with a little tub in her hands and a shopping bag around her wrist.

 

“Since when did people wear masks to the spa?” Saeran asks Saeyoung. He's never been to one himself, and he doesn't imagine that Saeyoung has either. Wouldn't you look like an idiot being completely naked save for a mask?

 

Saeyoung laughs. “It's skin care stuff, they're kinda cool. Do you have any of the peely kind? Those are my favorites.”

 

Jaehee picks through the bag when MC takes it off of her wrist, pulling out several little packets. “I believe so, there were quite a few to choose from at the pharmacy. Ah, this one is supposed to brighten your complexion when it's peeled.” She puts it next to the laptop. “I also have sheet masks in here as well, they all have characters on them I think.”

 

“Oooh, this one's a fox! I can't imagine Zen with one of these on, I'll have to ask for a selfie if he uses it. We should do these after our nails, and we can watch movies too!”

 

“We should be done relatively soon, then we can all relax.” Saeyoung pumps his fist.

 

Saeran puts his chin on the table, utterly fascinated with the tiny brush MC is going over Jaehee's nails with. She looks back at her phone several times, brows furrowed. She only seems to be fretting over one in particular, and she switches between several bottles and a toothpick frequently. Jaehee is sitting patiently, content to let MC hold her hand and nearly put her face on it when she gets into something more detailed.

 

MC finally straightens out her back some time later, blowing a puff of air up into her bangs. “Okay, I'm done! It doesn't look as good as the post, but I think it's still recognizable.”

 

Jaehee brings her hand up to her face, inspecting the work. “...is it a bug? Oh, oh wait...” Her face lights up. “It's a coffee bean! MC, that's so cute, thank you.” She puts her hand flat on the table when Saeyoung requests to see. It's a little sloppy, but Saeran eventually recognizes the dark brown spot on Jaehee's nail as a coffee bean.

 

“Won't the paint just fall off?” He asks. “You put all of that work into paint?”  
  
“It's super cute! And nail polish is a lot stronger than paint, so it should stay on for a while.” Saeyoung grins at his girlfriend and puts his hand on the table with a flourish. “Do mine next! I want little Ellies on them.”

 

“You always bite it off! I've painted your nails enough to know that it won't stay on for very long.” MC shakes a bottle of polish quickly in her hand, giggling at Saeyoung's pout. “It can't be good for you to eat it, anyway.”

 

“Probably better than those nasty chips you eat all the time.” Saeran scoffs, looking at all of the brightly colored bottles in MC's collection. “I can paint Saeran's nails though! Can I? I promise I'll do a good job! And he won't eat it.”

 

“I've heard that men painting their nails is fashionable for certain styles, and it's quite relaxing to have someone else paint them.” Jaehee adds, still smiling down at the little design on her finger. “I also brought enough masks for all of us to use one if you'd like.”

 

Saeyoung pats Saeran's shoulder rapidly with the hand that isn't flying over his keyboard. “Do it in my honor! Bless your nails with Elly's presence.”

 

“I'm... going to pass on the mask thing.” Saeran reluctantly lifts his hands up to the table, pressing his palms into the wood. “If she gets to do this I'm not putting cats on there, just pick a color and put it on.”

 

“Oh, oh! Do black! Goth kids still paint their nails black, right?” Saeran kicks his brother under the table.

 

Jaehee has her feet pulled up onto her chair to avoid the war going on underneath. “I do think black would suit you, a dark color would contrast nicely with your skin tone.” MC digs in her tub, eventually pulling out a small black bottle that she rolls between her palms and shakes around.

 

“Black it is! Do you want a design on them? I can do clouds really easy, I think it'd make a cute accent nail.” She adjusts herself in the chair, even though she ends up almost halfway on the table.

 

“Just do the color.” Saeran sighs, drumming his fingers on the table once before MC leans in to get to work. The polish smells weird, makes his nose wrinkle. It has a similar smell to the hair dye smell that's finally left his hair completely, some kind of chemical scent without the overly fruit stench of dye.

 

“Your nails are so nice, Saeran.” MC comments as she starts with his pinky. “I almost thought you would bite them like Saeyoung does.”

 

Well that's... a compliment, but his cheeks burn slightly anyway. “Ew, no. Hands are disgusting and your mouth is worse.” He looks pointedly at his brother, who is currently nibbling on the side of his thumb. “Have fun getting an infection.” Saeyoung only lifts his middle finger in response, too busy biting at a hangnail to reply verbally.

 

“That's usually why I paint mine, the polish tastes bad.” MC laughs at their interaction, dipping the brush into the polish again before starting on Saeran's pointer finger. “And it looks pretty.”

 

“Don't call something you're putting on me pretty/” He grumbles, twisting his hand slightly so she can get his thumb.

 

“But you're both pretty! That curly hair and your cute little button noses~.”

 

Saeyoung closes his laptop, officially abandoning his work. “But who's prettier?”

 

Jaehee chuckles. “You're identical twins- even more so now that Saeran has dyed his hair red again. Even so, I think MC has a bit of a bias for that question.”

 

MC waves her hand quickly over Saeran's left hand, trying to get the polish to dry faster. “Jaehee is right. Sorry, Saeran, but Saeyoung is the pretty twin.” Saeyoung beams, smushing his cheeks up when he puts both of his hands on his face.

 

“Oh, no. How will I ever live with this news.” Even Jaehee laughs at his overly serious voice, though hers is much more subdued and hidden behind her hand compared to MC and Saeyoung. “My brother's girlfriend thinks he's the pretty twin, what a shock.”

 

“Sassy sassy.” MC snorts. “But people like the mysterious type too, and Saeyoung isn't mysterious anymore.” The man in question puts a hand to his chest, looking overly offended. “Sorry, babe, that act dropped quick.”

 

“There's nothing wrong with being open with your loved ones.” Jaehee sips from her coffee. “But MC is right, the mysterious attitude is popular right now.”

 

“Is mysterious the new goth? Saeran, you should wear black lipstick too, really complete the aesthetic with the eyeliner.” Saeran nearly lifts his hand to smack at his brother, but kicks him instead when he remembers the wet polish and MC's face being so close to his hand. “Ow! I'm being serious! Have you ever done a wing? MC can show you.”

 

“I can barely even do regular eyeliner, I'm always afraid I'll stab my eye out.” She caps the polish, blowing gently over Saeran's fingers and waving her hands frantically over them. “I'm done! What do you think?”

 

Saeran looks down at his hands now that they aren't covered by the messy bun on MC's head, and he finds himself oddly pleased with the outcome. The polish is a deep black, but still catches the light in a shine- Jaehee had been right, he likes the way the dark color looks against the paleness of his skin. “Thank you.” He says quietly, still examining his nails.

 

Saeyoung stretches his hands high over his head, letting his chair skid loudly against the floor when he stands. “Let's get these masks on!! I can't wait to peel my face off and watch this movie.”

 

“I think it has decent ratings, it's some kind of drama I think- The Girl on the Bus, I think?”

 

“I thought it was The Boy on his Bike?” MC asks, fanning the masks out on the table before she picks one. “Or maybe it was The Girl in the Rain or something, I can't remember.”

 

“The Boy on his Bike sounds like a kid's movie.” Saeran also rises from the table, intent on ensuring he has his usual spot on the couch before Saeyoung can sprawl out on the entire thing, even though he's already run off to the bathroom to put on the face mask.

 

Jaehee and MC come into the living room shortly after Saeran, giggling at the weird looking animal faces on the masks that nearly have Saeran jumping out of his skin when he sees MC clearly as she plops down next to him. “Am I a cute fox?” She asks, curling her hands into fists under her chin while tilting her head cutely.

 

“Horrendous.” Saeran answers.

 

The movie loads up to the title screen just as Saeyoung comes back in, his hair clipped back into a ridiculous mess and his face covered in a shiny substance that makes the fox mask look a little less horrific. “Aw man, Jaehee took my spot! How will I survive? My own girlfriend cuddling with Jaehee instead of me?”

 

MC slings her arm around the back of the couch, and Jaehee settles into her shoulder with a laugh. “There's plenty of floor, honey, you can sit in front of me.”

 

“And spread out all you want without your feet on me.” Saeran huffs, checking to see that his nails are completely dry before he settles his head in his arms on the arm of the couch. Saeyoung plops down on the floor, letting his head settle in MC's lap before he kicks on leg up and twists himself so he can get it _just_ into his brother's lap with a cheeky grin that threatens to crack the drying mask on his face.

 

“I hate you.” Saeran groans, pushing the offending foot from his legs before he curls them up onto the couch- denying his brother any more lap to put things in.

 

“Love you too, baby bro.” Saeyoung sings, looking all too pleased with his antics.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI long time no update sorry yall lmao, not a fiver this time either, but yknow its a post! also I edited the other chapters for general bugs and errors and i also!! got a super sweet comment on this fic letting me know that I've been goofing with honoriffics and suffixes so i just. ditched them completely lol, sorry for the slip up guys! but I'm very thankful for constructive criticism!! throw it at me
> 
> this story group deals a lot with Saeran's past and I really hope I did some justice here ahhaha;;; I really love Rika (yes even minty Rika) and V and I wanted to write them, but it's a little hard to feel like theyre in character when they dont have much to go off of in the game, I hope I did an okay job with them. I also wanted to elaborate on some headcanons I have about Saeran's aversion to touch, there's no assault in this chapter but there are some scenes of drug use and one kind of mention of a dissosciative episode, but nothing explicit as usual. there are also some links sprinkled in, sorry if that's weird but they felt right I guess
> 
> also catch me on tumblr! it's 6-in-the-am.tumblr.com i have my ask box open and anon messages on, hit it up if you want!

**ix.**

 

Jumin Han: Good evening.

 

Jumin Han: I do hope that this isn't too inconvenient of an hour to talk.

 

Unknown: It's fine.

 

Unknown: Do you need something..?

 

Jumin Han: Not necessarily, but I do have a proposition for you.

 

Unknown: ?

 

Jumin Han: I've been speaking quite a bit with Saeyoung.

 

Unknown: I don't think I'm interested.

 

Jumin Han: While I do understand your apprehension please at least listen to what I have to say.

 

Jumin Han: He worries about your well-being, and I know that you aren't very fond of doctors or hospitals, but this place is very different from where you were before.

 

Saeran's heart thumps uncomfortably in his chest when Jumin shares a link to something with clinic in the url. Saeyoung wants him back in a hospital? Was taking his door not enough? He thinks back on the things he's done recently and tries to pinpoint what might have set this off. Was it when he blew up on MC? When he snuck outside for those few moments? But those are so far back, and Saeran would like to think that he's been doing... decently the past nine months aside from the more consistent episodes that happened in the beginning. His hands shake as he types out his reply.

 

Unknown: I'll leave the fucking country if you two even think about putting me in a hospital again.

 

Unknown: I'm. Not. Interested.

 

Jumin Han: It's nothing that severe.

 

Jumin Han: Calm down, please listen to what I'm saying.

 

Jumin Han: Assistant Kang and I have been looking for therapists and psychiatrists that are suited for you.

 

Jumin Han: I can assure you that you will only receive the best treatment.

 

Jumin Han: This is your decision, but please take your brother's feelings into consideration.

 

Jumin Han: And the feelings of the organization as a whole.

 

Unknown: Therapy doesn't sound much better than being stuck in a hospital.

 

Unknown: I know my brain is fucked and I'd rather not take any more medication than I have to.

 

Unknown: You've read every report they've written about me.

 

Unknown: I don't think sending me to a therapist is going to look good for you.

 

Jumin Han: This is not about my image.

 

Jumin Han: This is about helping a friend.

 

Jumin Han: I'm sorry to leave suddenly, but Elizabeth is calling for me. Please think about things clearly before you make any decisions.

 

Jumin Han: I have my phone on me at nearly all times, so please don't hesitate to call or send me a message.

 

The phone falls to the bed, bouncing somewhere in the mess of sheets as Saeran stands and goes on the hunt for his brother. Saeyoung is on one of his laptops in the living room, his feet kicked up on the cushions and a PHD Pepper in his hand like he hasn't been talking behind his brother's back. He has the nerve to smile when he looks up. “What's up, dude?”

 

“You've been talking to Jumin.” Saeran starts, arms crossed tight across his chest. “You don't think that you should have- uh, I don't know- talked to _me_ about this shit? Instead of him texting me at 9 o'clock telling me to pick a doctor to try and talk to me about feelings and what pills to shove down my throat.”

 

Saeyoung blinks, and it's safe to assume that he's probably been preparing for this talk with the way he closes his laptop with a sigh and he has his “serious talk” face on. “I figured maybe you'd be more open to it if I wasn't the one who suggested it.” He sits up straighter and puts an arm over the back of the couch. “Look, I get why you're upset about it, but I really just want you to-”

 

“Think about it? I don't want to go. There, I thought about it.” Saeran says firmly, squeezing his arms around himself. “See? Simple as that, you didn't have to make anyone look for doctors.”

 

“Why don't you just try, Saeran?” Saeyoung asks. “Look, I know you really, _really_ don't want to go, but if you just try it out and then you can decide from there. I'm not trying to make you angry, or to hurt you-”

 

“It's a little late for that.” Saeran growls, and he regrets his words immediately. It's a very tender spot for both of them, but even more for Saeyoung. He opens his mouth, then closes it. Does it a few more times and looks more devastated each time. His tears are not satisfying like Saeran thinks they should be, and he finds himself speechless as well.

 

What happened to the aggression he used to have? Where's the fight that would throw all of this even further down the hill? They stare at each other for a while, what feels like hours and Saeran does not understand what he should be doing with the heavy weight of guilt that's rapidly building from the pit of his stomach up into his chest, his throat.

 

Saeyoung breathes deeply, reigning in the few tears that had managed to escape. “I know.” He says, voice rough. “But now I'm trying to help in any way that I can, I should have talked to you first instead of Jumin. I'm sorry that I did that. But right now I just want you to try at least one or two sessions with just one of them, there aren't that many to choose from and Jumin only even considered the best and I promise you it won't be anything like being in the hospital.”

 

Saeran doesn't respond, so Saeyoung keeps going and sounds more frantic.

 

“Look, if you hate it you just- you _don't_ have to go, I'm not trying to push anything on you. I've never been to therapy but I know that someone who knows what they're doing can do more than any of us combined, and you can tell them things you don't want to tell us- I don't care if you just go there to say that you think this is all a bad idea and then walk out.” He pushes his hair back from his forehead several times, uncaring for the mess he makes of his hair. “I also know that you haven't been sleeping anywhere near enough, and we can't have your prescriptions refilled without a doctor.”

 

“I'm not taking any medication again. I've taken enough already, and I did that first month because you kept pushing for it.” Saeran squeezes himself tight. “I don't care about sleeping. I don't care about being 'helped' or whatever. I'm not doing anything important here anyway, I didn't ask for anyone's 'help' and you shouldn't have either.”

 

Saeyoung finally stands up from the couch, and Saeran turns his head away from him. He wishes his room had a door so he could lock himself away, and the lock on the bathroom door doesn't work anymore. He shakes off his brother's hand with a rough jerk and then a slap when Saeyoung tries to put his hand on his shoulder again. He can see the droop of his shoulders from the corner of his eye, but doesn't budge from his twisted away position.

 

“ _Please_ don't say shit like that.” Saeyoung pleads. “Saeran, I didn't ask for a lot of the things that everyone has done. Jumin was the one that asked me if I needed help looking for a therapist, he canceled some of his own personal work to do that. Jaehee helped as much as she could. Zen has offered to do anything that he can to help you, so has Yoosung- they text me _daily_ to ask how you're doing and if you need anything. MC does the exact same thing, I know this is different than what you're used to- than what we're _both_ used to. I'm so scared because all of them care about me, and they care about you just as much, Saeran.”

 

“I don't care about any of them.” Saeran lies, making it sound as hateful as he can muster to cover it up. “They shouldn't care about me either. I did everything I could to ruin all of you.” He turns his head a little to look at his twin, tries to ignore his sad, sad face. “What if this all backfires? Maybe this was my plan all along, you never know, do you?”

 

Saeyoung lets out a poor excuse for a laugh. “This is what family is, Saeran. You fuck up, and people still love you anyway. You're my twin brother, and the rest of the RFA considers you family too.” He reaches out again, his hand resting gently on Saeran's upper arm and squeezing when it isn't shoved away. “All of this _sucks_ , and I didn't do enough when I could have to keep all of this from happening to you. I'm so _sorry_ , I haven't been a good brother when I could have but now I want to. I want to do what I didn't for so long, and all of this is hard in ways that I can't imagine for you.”

 

“I want the best for you, and I want you to be happy. The entire RFA wants you to be happy.”

 

Saeran doesn't know if he deserves to be happy. He knows better than to tell Saeyoung this, though, so he leaves without a word and leaves his brother in the living room.

 

He wishes he had a door to slam.

 

-

 

The link that Jumin had sent him looks benign enough when he finally musters up the guts to click on it. The page layout is bland and not incredibly mobile friendly, but the short blurb on the home page is trying to sell something something _recovery_ by their something something _caring staff_ and Saeran wants nothing more than to call bullshit on this entire idea again. He taps on the menu for this supposedly caring staff and he scowls when he sees that all of the ones listed as doctors are women.

 

He locks his phone and lets it fall onto his chest. He doesn't exactly trust anyone enough to really open up about this kind of stuff, especially if it apparently has to be a woman- considering the only two he's known well enough have been his mother and Rika.

 

MC is still in some kind of limbo to him. Saeran thinks on some of his better days that maybe they could be friends instead of this... whatever it is where Saeran does most of the pushing but MC seems to be pulling with all of her might to try and get him to open up. And while he likes Jaehee, he hasn't been around her enough to really think about them being _friends_ , and he doesn't even know if he wants to. They're both so different than mother- much more pleasant, to be frank.

 

But Rika had also been pleasant, much more so in the beginning. Saeran didn't interact much with any of the female members of Mint Eye, or any of them really. He had been too busy carrying out the more important tasks assigned to him, things above recruiting new members and the scattered plans for the “party”. Saeran closes his eyes and presses his thumb between his eyes.

 

His head is starting to hurt again.

 

**x.**

 

There was nothing like her love. It's been so many years since Rika appeared in the doorway of that shabby little house with V and they both took in Saeran with open arms and the saddest looking smiles he's ever seen, and he still finds himself looking back and trying to identify exactly what that emotion could be that he still gets in pangs when he thinks of the couple. He remembers sitting in the corner, straining to hear them clearly, remembers mother's aggressive voice and the way V had soothed her into cooperation and the initial agreement of just letting him out to attend this church.

 

Rika was beautiful, even with tears in her eyes and her face twisted with horror. Both of them were beautiful, really. V's shocking eyes and slender frame, Rika's petite body and flowing hair- both looking so _kind_ when they offer to take him to this church. He had hoped with every fiber of his frail body at the time that this would be the day he could see Saeyoung again, to see what's so special about church and to hold onto his twin while this pretty couple takes them for ice cream and somewhere better than the room of their mother's house.

 

His legs felt stiff under his meager weight, and he took to holding Rika's just barely larger hand like a lifeline, talking softly to him even though all of his attention was turned upward. She tells him how things will only get better from here, that she's working with V to save Saeran and Saeyoung.

 

Saeyoung is nowhere to be found in the church, and no one seems to mistake Saeran for his twin, he nearly asks if they can go to another church to try and find him. Saeran is never able to work up the nerve, however, and he tries to find peace in the warm hand around his and the cheerfully puffy clouds.

 

But the sky felt lonely that day.

 

-

She gives him a book when V isn't around to hear, the strangest look in her eyes when she swears him to secrecy. She tells him this is what Saeyoung would have read even though he doesn't really remember the cover of any of the books that she slips him. He devours them regardless. Anything to be closer to Saeyoung.

 

He still hasn't seen him in church or in any of his classes, but he hopes. Oh, Saeran hopes.

-

 

If mother ever taught him anything useful, it was how to hide things. He knows every loose floorboard in this shabby room, every nook and cranny where mother doesn't even think to look when she does stumble into the room to give him a glass of water or whatever scraps of dinner were left. He waits until he can't hear her moving through the house, until he knows for sure that there is no chance that mother will open the door to make sure he hasn't tried to loosen the rope around his ankle. Rika has started leaving small scraps of paper throughout the books, most of them small encouragements and praises for how far he's gotten into the thick tomes on computer science.

 

Saeran knows that somewhere in the very bottom of the one box of belongings he had taken from his prison the first note is still there. The paper soft with age and how many times it's been opened and closed, her pretty handwriting probably even more faded with how much time has passed.

 

_You're doing so well! Saeyoung will be so proud._

 

_V and I are so proud._

 

Saeran didn't keep the notes that came later, but he remembers them so clearly he can almost feel the paper between his fingers, can see the way her handwriting had become more sharp and less uniform.

 

_Do you want to go somewhere better than this?_

 

_We can't save your mother but I can save you._

 

_I have to tell you about luciel_

 

_V is lying he lies so much_

 

_i will take you somewhere beautiful_

 

_-_

 

“What are these?”

 

V looks up from his expensive looking computer, rubbing one of his eyes. “The cacti?” He asks, pushing a few keys before he closes the laptop.

 

Saeran tears his gaze away from the spiny little things and looks over at V, tilting his head. “Cacti? Is that what they're called? Why are they so spiky?”

 

V smiles and stands from his seat. “They're plants, and I really like them. They have spines so they don't get eaten by animals, and it makes it harder for them to lose water in the desert.” He picks up one of the small potted plants, turning it around in his hands slowly.

 

The desert, Saeran furrows his brow and tries to remember exactly what that is. The hot place? “How did you get them here?” He asks.

 

“They sell them in a lot of shops, I can take you along with me sometime if you'd like. Would you like one? They're very easy to take care of, and sometimes they bloom.”

 

Saeran's delight is crushed within seconds, and he looks back down to the little plants with a frown. “...I don't think mother would like it if she saw them, and I'm not allowed to have my curtains open.” He thinks about how she might take the spines from one of the plants and stick them into his flesh and shudders at the thought. He brings a hand up to the still fresh scab on his neck where she had gotten creative with a broken bottle, digging his nails into the tender skin. “I don't want her to take something that you gave me, V.”

 

V gently takes his hand away from his neck, his touch so soft that Saeran doesn't even think to be upset. “I guess I didn't think about that... I'm sorry, Saeran.” His hand comes to rest on the boy's shoulder, his thumb rubbing back and forth gently. “Is there one here that you like? I have plenty, you can pick whichever one you like, or you can get one at one of the shops.”

 

“Really?” Saeran looks up at V, eyes wide. V is grinning, his eyes crinkled. “Do you mean it?”

 

“Of course.” V chuckles. “They might be a little boring, but I think it's nice to have something that needs you, even if it's just a plant.”

 

Saeran smiles so hard his cheeks hurt, his heart thumping pleasantly with excitement. “Can you tell me about them? I want to know everything. The books I've read don't really talk about plants, and I want to be good to them like you are.” He turns back to the little potted plants on the windowsill, pointing at the first one that catches his eye. “What's this one?”

 

They play this game for the better part of an hour, but V is still all smiles and patiently explains the names of each of his plants- some with silly sounding names and some so long that Saeran isn't sure how V can even pronounce them- and Saeran eagerly listens. V fearlessly brushes his fingers over the thick yellow spines of the one he calls a Golden Barrel, and lets Saeran feel the smooth fleshy leaves of Aloe, even offers to let him help when he and Rika harvest the gel inside. He finds the one V calls a prickly pear to be his favorite, but there are a few empty looking planters that catch his eye.

 

“Are these ones just dirt?” He asks, searching so carefully for any signs of life in the dark soil that he doesn't notice the way V stiffens slightly, his smile falters.

 

“Those are still growing.” V says eventually, regaining his composure when Saeran looks up at him again. “They're called [Lophophora williamsii](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peyote), it doesn't have any spines but the flower is very pretty. Rika has been interested in them lately.”

 

Of course Rika would like the pretty ones, he thinks, everything she likes is so pretty and nice. Saeran leans in again, is one of them starting to sprout? He thinks maybe he can see something green starting to push through the dirt. “I hope they grow fast.” He says. “I want Rika to be happy when they start growing.”

 

**xi.**

 

Saeran remembers the day he had taken a bag with him to church, packed with the little clothing he had instead of books and his journals for school. Mother was too drunk to get out of bed most days, and she seems weaker than usual. He stands by the couch where she sleeps, listening to her breathing roughly and it fills him with the strangest sense of satisfaction. He's not the weak one in the house anymore, he can walk without falling, he can lift food to his mouth without his hand shaking violently.

 

The phone Rika had given him last week pings in his pocket just as he hears the sound of car pulling up in front of the house. This is it, he thinks. This is the start of something better, a chapter in his life where he finally has _power_. Saeran stays by the couch for a few more moments, disgusted and elated at the look on her face. She's so weak, so helpless to the bottle still clutched in her hand from where it hangs off the side of the couch. He is _strong,_ he's survived this hell on his own. His pathetic excuse for a brother couldn't handle this torture, couldn't even look back to save his identical twin. She won't miss him, and he won't miss her. Saeran can barely hold back his laughter as he finally makes his way to the front door, grinning like mad when he sees Rika waiting outside in the car.

 

“You seem excited.” Rika says when he settles into the passenger seat. “It's good to see you smile, Saeran.”

 

“How could I not be happy?” He asks, all of his attention on her. “You've taken me from hell to paradise,” She's smiling as she pulls onto the road, and Saeran's stomach flutters excitedly. “You're my savior, Rika.”

 

“Savior...” She murmurs, letting the word roll off of her tongue. Her smile grows even wider, and she looks over to the boy beside her. “I love that, Saeran. You have such wonderful ideas, I knew you were the best choice for this.” Rika takes a hand off of the steering wheel, reaching for one of Saeran's hand. “We will make something better for everyone, you will be my number one.”

 

Saeran looks down at their hands, marvels at how his hand is much bigger than hers now. “Of course.” He says quietly. “If you can take me from her, you can save anyone.”

 

Rika just smiles, squeezing Saeran's hand in hers. “As much as I would love to, there are some that can't be saved, my dear. You were lucky, I was able to take you in before any evil could truly touch your heart, but others aren't as fortunate as you.”

 

“Do... do you mean people like mother?”

 

Rika nods. “But there are others, you remember what I said about V, right? That he's been lying, he's been talking to the members of the organization. He's done a lot to help us, of course, but I don't know how much I can trust him anymore.” Saeran wracks his brain, trying to remember what organization she's talking about. The one she had started? The one with Luciel? “I want to take them along with us, but they're stubborn, and they're changing V.”

 

Her expression has hardened and Saeran can't help but feel nervous. He hopes his palms aren't getting sweaty. “...maybe we can find a way to get them on our side? I know Luciel will fight, but when he sees everything that you've done I don't know how he could disagree.” Saeran looks down at their hands, tries rubbing his thumb over her hand like she's done for him when he gets overwhelmed. “We can find a way to make them come with us- _you_ can find a way. You always have, Rika.”

 

“So optimistic.” She smiles a little, she's still facing the road but Saeran feels immediately more at ease to see he's won some kind of acceptance from her. “I do think we can still win V over, but he's becoming weaker every day, even with my help. His vision is getting worse every day.” Rika's eyes get a bit glossy and she falls into silence, something she's been doing more often in the past few months. Her hand goes limp where it's wrapped up in Saeran's, but the one holding the wheel grips it so tightly her knuckles pale. Saeran worries for her most when this happens, thinks he should learn to drive so she doesn't have to do it. So she doesn't end up hurting herself if he isn't here to keep an eye on her.

 

“I can be stronger than V.” Rika pulls out of her trance, looking at Saeran when they stop at a light. “I'll do everything he can't, if he wants to keep going to that organization then maybe we can't trust him, like you said.”

 

“Are you angry?” She asks quietly, pulling her hand from his to rub at his upper arm.

 

Saeran nods, more familiar with the hot energy coming from his chest. It makes him restless now, puts a shake in his leg and curls his fingers into fists. “I'm angry with V for going back on his promises. I'm angry with my mother for... for being the way she is.” His nails bite into his palm even though they peel and crack when they even start to grow past the tips of his fingers.

 

“How do you feel about Luciel?” Rika sounds interested now, someone honks behind them when the light turns green and they don't move. “Are you angry at him?”

 

“I hate him.” Saeran says automatically, surprised at the relief the admission brings him. “I hate him.”

 

Rika smiles and takes her hand away to put both of them on the wheel. Saeran finds himself missing her gentle touch as soon as it's gone. “Good.” She says, sounding pleased. “You should be, after all he's done to you. Leaving you alone with your mother? Who knows what would have happened if V and I didn't find you.”

 

He would be dead in that room. Saeran knows this. Mother probably wouldn't even realize, she'd probably still kick his body around even though he couldn't react to it. It used to scare him to think about, but now... now he's more alive than he's ever been. He's overcome that fear with the blazing energy of hate, and it feels good. In this little car with Rika, he can take on the world- can take on his brother and all of his stupid friends who think he's a good person.

 

“You've been stronger than V for a long time now, Saeran.” Rika murmurs, and his heart _soars_. “And I can make you even stronger.”

 

**xii.**

 

The tattoo gun tickles in the strangest way as it drags oh so slowly over Saeran's bicep. He was warned that it could potentially hurt, but he supposes that his pain tolerance has adjusted over the years.

 

That, and the pearly white tablets Rika has given to him and the new converts are still making him feel light, like he's walking through the clouds. It's different than any other medication he's been given before. He had panicked the first time he had taken them, had fallen to his knees and nearly wept into Rika's lap when it felt like he was struggling to keep his body together.

 

She was patient, combing her fingers through his hair and he wanted to pull away, the usually soothing motion overwhelming. It was like he could feel every molecule shifting under her touch, under his clothing, threatening to break him apart if he didn't stay completely still. It was worse when she curled over him and left him too hot and too cold at the same time. But she was talking, he could see the words spell out in his mind and float somewhere deeper into his mind to make room for more.

 

“Remember why you're here.” The hand smoothing over his shoulder feels like electricity. “I'm saving you from everything this filthy world wants to do to you. You're safe here, you have strength here.” He can hear her heartbeat and it seeps from her chest into his, her cheek rests on his head and he feels the way her lips brush together, maybe even hear that too. “I will do anything for you, and you for me. Right?”

 

Saeran has to take several moments to find his mouth, then his throat; has to untangle his tongue. “Of course.” How could he not? His head is weirdly heavy when starts to lift it, looking up at the woman he owes his life to with half-lidded eyes. “Anything for you. My Savior.” Were there always so many colors in this dark room? The few hanging lights are playing off of her hair, making it shimmer. There's a near perfect halo around her head and she's so beautiful it hurts.

 

Rika caresses his cheek. “There you are.” She laughs and Saeran tries to focus on her instead of the sound that seems to bounce and dance around the stone walls. “Why are you here? Can you tell me, Saeran?”

 

“You.” He swallows, tries to make more room in his mouth for words. “You took me from my mother, took me from _death_.” Her smile grows and she sweeps her hand under his chin. “I owe you everything, and I'll give you anything. We're going to fix everything.”

 

“I will.” She corrects, but Saeran takes no offense. He has a long way to go before he can do even half the things Rika can, he'll take as many of these pills as it takes to rise to her level and carry out her plans for the future.

 

“How do you feel about Luciel?”

 

Luciel... _Saeyoung_. He misses Saeyoung, but he knows he can't tell Rika this. Saeran still finds himself dreaming about his twin most nights and most of them are pleasant. He dreams the most about the two of them finding each other, about them growing up together and making up for lost time and living as close to each other as possible like they had promised. But Saeyoung is dead, and this Luciel has crawled into what's left of his body and taken over. Saeran grits his teeth.

 

“I hate him, I'll kill him.”

 

“Good. Take that hate and _use_ it,” The hand under his chin tightens its grip and he wonders if his bones will meld to her touch, will physically rebuild him into something better. He wouldn't mind. “This is your power, your strength. You will take down Luciel and the rest of his little friends, and I will save the best for me and you.” Her hand holds him tighter and he allows her to turn his head, looking him over with a glint in her eye. “I think I rather like you kneeling for me, you have such good ideas, Saeran.”

 

A particularly sharp poke from the tattoo gun jars him from the memory, then the pressure of the artist wiping down Saeran's now tattooed arm. “All done!” The man hums along to the rock music playing throughout the small shop. “I can't believe you didn't even want a break, man, especially for your first!”

He starts talking about what Saeran needs to do to help the tattoo heal properly, but he's too immersed in looking at it in the mirror.

 

He can't help but grin at his reflection. His hair is snowy white now, only the slightest bits of pink showing through at the tips. His eyes are a piercing minty blue instead of that hideous golden color, and now there's something much more permanent that separates him from Luciel. The first concept of Mint Eye's logo stands out wonderfully against his pale skin, the dark black ink rimmed with a pale halo of red and it's really starting to sting now but Saeran is too happy to care. He looks _nothing_ like Luciel now and it's exhilarating.

 

“Looks like you're happy with it.” The artist is giving him a strange look. “Come on up front, I'll give you the aftercare kit and you can pay.”

 

Saeran leaves without the aftercare kit, he only leaves the money and a party invitation on the counter when the man's back is turned.

 

-

 

He's been wandering through the busier parts of the city to find the perfect decoy for Rika's plan. Saeran is taking particular interest in one girl, she doesn't seem to have many close friends. When she takes the subway from the tiny university she attends she sits alone, smiles at children and offers her seat to the elderly. He follows her home a few times, and she lives in a tiny apartment by herself and some stray cats that occasionally gather around her balcony for scraps of food she leaves out. It seems like a lonely life, very quiet and set to a specific schedule.

 

She's perfect, and he supposes she's cute too. What a bonus.

 

He waits until it's barely past dawn and plants Rika's old cell phone a few feet from the door she always leaves from, his mask pulled snug over his nose while he waits in a nearby alley. The girl comes out at 6 am sharp like always, her hair pulled into a bun and a sleepy look on her face. She's not too tired to notice the phone, however, and she takes the bait.

 

Perfect.

 

-

 

The window gives with only a little resistance against the steel toe of his boot. The glass crunches loudly under his feet, and she looks appropriately terrified. Perfect, _wonderful._ He can't to take her from Luciel, to watch him suffer endlessly over this girl. She's crying, and she even steps on a few pieces of glass when she starts to back away from him, the deep red smears over the hardwood floors and onto the creamy carpet. Saeran grins behind his mask, a little cut from some glass is nothing compared to what he has planned for this girl. She cries out for someone named Seven frantically, crying in earnest when Saeran can't contain his laughter.

 

Until the front door swings open, and Luciel bursts into the room.

 

Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong _wrong._ This is going wrong too fast, he hasn't had the time to convince her to come along. Saeran rushes to grab her instead, flexing his arm tight around her neck. But Luciel keeps _looking_ at him, he isn't fighting for this girl even when she declares his love for him at the top of her lungs.

 

Luciel is tearing up now, a different kind of devastation that Saeran wants. “ _You...”_ He chokes, stepping closer even when Saeran grips the girl so tight he can feel the struggle of air trying to get in and out of her throat. “ _Saeran...”_ Luciel whispers, ignoring Saeran's screams to stop stop _stop_ calling him that, after all these years he has no right to be calling for him- to look so sad to see his twin. Saeran feels the familiar pounding behind his eyes.

 

“ _Saeran... Saeran....”_

 

 

“Saeran?” The therapist asks again, letting her pen rest against the clipboard in her hands. “Are you alright?” Her voice is much softer than Lucie-Saeyoung's, cautious and gentle.

 

Right. He's sitting in this office-has been for probably an hour now. He searches the soft carpet under him and tries to center himself again. He's sitting on the floor with his back against the couch in the cozy little office- floor M, room C4. The metronome that's always on her desk is clicking slowly and he tries to breathe with it like she had suggested the first time he had come in. It helps, he supposes. She's still looking at him, studying him and it makes him feel like he's in the room with Jumin almost. She has the same dark hair as him, but her skin is several shades deeper than his pale, pinky flesh. Saeran keeps looking down at his hands where they're resting between his knees and his chest.

 

“I'm fine.” He answers quietly, and peeks through his bangs. She's still sitting cross-legged maybe two feet from him- she's weird, offering him any seat in the dimly lit room _including_ the floor “if that's where he feels comfortable” and she didn't even blink when he decided to take one of the cushions nestled against the foot of the couch that looks too plush for him to sit on comfortably. She asks if he wants a bottle of water or a soda before she plunks down on the floor in front of the chair he assumes she usually sits in during sessions with other patients. Strange woman.

 

“You were gone for a few minutes there.” The doctor picks her pen up again and starts scribbling notes again. “Where did you go? Do you want to talk about that?”

 

Saeran massages his palm, rubs his thumb over a faded scar there that he can't even remember the origin of. How does he even put all of this into words? There's too much to get out, he wonders why she's even asking when she has his files underneath her yellow notepad. “No.” He shakes his head. “I don't know what to say.”

 

“That's okay.” She reassures. “We don't have to talk about that until you're ready, and I think we're almost out of time, anyway.” Saeran looks up at the clock on the wall and is relieved to see that the hour has almost passed. “But, before we go,” Fuck. “I want to ask, does this happen often? Do you feel like you lose time like this a lot?”

 

“... I guess.” He says after a while, trying to kill as much of the time left as he can. She might be nice, but Saeran knows that she will wait as long as she needs to when he starts talking. “It used to happen... um, more often in the beginning.”  
  
“When you started living with your brother again?” She clarifies, nodding along with Saeran. “Is he aware when it happens?”

 

Probably. Actually Saeran is sure of it, but he's never taken the time to admit much to Saeyoung even after almost a year. “I haven't told him.” Saeran settles on that. “I'm sure he knows.” His phone buzzes twice in his back pocket- speak of the devil, Saeyoung must be waiting in the parking lot.

 

“I think it would be a good starting point if you opened up to him about this, I know you said last time that you would like to mend your relationship with him. If you two can be on the same page whenever you're struggling, it could really help both of you.” The therapist gives him a smile when Saeran finds the guts to look up at her directly- god, she looks weirdly like MC trying to comfort him. “But I did catch you using some of the grounding techniques I showed you last time- don't worry, it's only obvious because I know what to look for.” She chuckles, brushing her short hair behind her ear. “That's a good skill to have, I'm glad to see you finding use for them.” She checks her watch again, then officially retires her clipboard to the small table beside her chair. “We're out of time for today, but this was a good session! I'm very glad to see you opening up each time.”

 

The therapist sends him off with her usual goodbyes, double checking the next appointment the week after next and wishing him a safe trip home from the doorway of the waiting room as he makes his way down the hallway toward the elevator. It's late enough that he's sure they're the only people left in the building, thankfully, and the trip down to the ground floor is quiet as always. Trust Jumin to pick somewhere with too many floors and a weird kind of reserved expensiveness.

 

Saeyoung is parked close to the entrance to the building, the car purring softly where he waits. At least he didn't take the leopard print one this time. Music is playing softly when Saeran gets into the car, something slower than Saeyoung's usual upbeat music taste.

 

“Sup, playa.” His twin says too seriously, finishing a text message and wedging the phone under his thigh before he looks over at his passenger seat. Saeran usually at least gives him a hum in reply when Saeyoung picks him up, but Saeran is _tired._ He always is after having to sit in that little room for an hour and discuss the nitty gritty of his life and his brain, but he didn't expect to relive so many years in just a few minutes.

 

“Rough session?” Saeyoung asks, the playfulness from earlier gone. He considers his brother for a few more moments before he puts the car in reverse and puts them on the road to home. Saeran rests his head on the window and watches the street lights and bright buildings fly by, Saeyoung is actually driving like a decent human being tonight. They're taking some backstreets this time instead of the highway, he's been in the car with his brother enough to know he's trying to make more time to talk.

 

Saeran sighs.“I guess.” He pops his knuckles in his lap, then his wrists. “It was long.”

 

Saeyoung's blinker clicks softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Even though Saeyoung is probably looking at the road, Saeran shakes his head. He knows Saeyoung will take his silence as a hint. They ride quietly, the only sounds coming from the speakers and occasional clicks of the turn signal being flipped on. The song ends, and [another slow song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PiGt9C76U0s) comes on. The singers still sound sad, but it's just a little more upbeat than the last. It's in English, and Saeran's understanding of the language is just as good as his brother's, but he can barely keep himself from falling asleep in the warmth of the car, much less trying to translate whatever is being said.

 

Something taps against the back of his hand twice, and Saeran immediately wakes up to yank it back out of surpise. He looks down to see what could have knocked against him so lightly, and he sees Saeyoung's hand outstretched and palm up with his fingers wiggling gently. Saeran considers pushing it away, but he's too sleepy to fight. Saeyoung squeezes his hand when their palms meet and their fingers lock between each other. “I love you, Saeran.” Saeyoung has his eyes locked on the road, if it wasn't so dark Saeran is sure he could see him trying not to cry. Stupid, he thinks, but returns the squeeze halfheartedly.

 

They haven't held hands since they were little, and Saeran marvels quietly at the feeling. Saeyoung's hand is so warm in his perpetually cold and clammy one, his fingers are long and slender but not as rough as Saeran's. There are unfamiliar little bumps, scars that Saeran isn't sure of the origin of, but he figures his is the same. Identical twins, so different after a lifetime of bullshit and heartbreak crammed into ten or so years. Hope is so dangerous, but Saeran wants so badly for some kind of normalcy.

 

He squeezes harder this time, and Saeyoung rubs his thumb over the scars littering his younger brother's wrist when Saeran whispers “I love you, too.” and lets his head rest against the window again. Saeran doesn't fight the drop of his eyelids again, Saeyoung will wake him up when they get home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how clever was my MC4 cameo lmfao


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i update my fics like 3 months later lol
> 
> this is a fiver! i'm sorry it took so long, but the next (and last) chapter should be out sooner than this one!!! i have a lot of it written, and it's all pretty feel good stuff, we're getting to the less stressful parts of this fic folks
> 
> this update has one section (the first) that has a mention of vomiting in it, and some talk about the choi twins' mom and is pretty heavy all around, you can skip it if you need to! the rest of them are very safe i think

**xiii.**

A year has gone by, and Saeran knows he’s going to have a bad day the second he wakes up.

 

He can feel the weight of sickness in his bones, working deep into his joints and squeezing around his chest. It’s always been like this, any sickness seems to come out of nowhere, a silent but vicious predator. He squeezes his eyes shut and curls in on himself, the blankets are too thick and too thin to keep the chills and sweats from plaguing him. The way they’ve tangled up his legs remind him too much of being tied down all those years ago and he kicks violently to free himself.

 

This is not mother’s house, this is not that dusty little room. There’s a bed underneath him, there are blankets without holes in them wrapped around his shaking frame. How many times will he have to go through this ritual until it’s something he truly remembers? Is this all he’s ever going to be? A mess, relying on his therapist’s suggestions so he can attempt to function at maybe something like a person. Saeran slowly rises from his mess of blankets and scrubs his hands against his face.

  
  


Get up. Leave bed. Open the messenger to at least try to stay up to date. Talk with his brother and probably his girlfriend. Remember that she’s not a terrible person, remember that Saeyoung isn’t bad either, that he  Remember remember remember.

  
  


He remembers. It never feels like enough.

 

Getting out of bed is strenuous, his knees protest just as loudly as his head does but he manages to take the few steps from the side of his bed to the blanket hanging in his empty doorway. The lights in the hallway are too bright, the sound of Saeyoung walking around and talking with MC is _so_ loud.

  
  


Remember, remember. Manage it. Wade through the haze and function.

  
  


MC is the first to greet him, smiling at him from her spot at the table. Saeyoung turns to face him, but his cheerful good mornings fall right off of his lips before they can even form, and are replaced with a quirk of the brow.

  
  


“You’re sick.” Saeyoung doesn’t even try to make it a question, he’s staring Saeran down. MC looks confused, but doesn’t make any comment when Saeyoung pushes his chair back so he can stand.

  
  


“I’m not.” Saeran bites back, but Saeyoung is already coming closer, already pressing the back of his hand to Saeran’s forehead. He pushes it away weakly.

  
  


“I can see it in your eyes, they always get glossy when you’re sick.” Saeran ignores him, ignores the way Saeyoung’s eyes are watching him carefully as he makes his way to the dining table and sits, resting his head in his arms on the tabletop. “You feel warm, too.”

  
  


The wood feels tacky against his slightly sweaty arms, the cold seeping into his flesh and diving deep into the ache that’s refusing to leave. “I’m tired.” He mutters. “I just got out of bed.”

 

The chairs are much too loud against the floor, there’s a swish of air when MC stands and it cuts into Saeran’s bones. “You’re shaking, Saeran. I think I brought some Tiaranol a while ago, it should be here somewhere.”

  
  


“I don’t need it.” He doesn’t want it. “I’m fine.” There’s a hand that rests gently on his back, then sweeps up to the nape of his neck and it’s _cold_ it’s cold and it _hurts._ He flinches away, lifting his head to squint at Saeyoung. “Piss off.”

  
  


“It’ll help bring your fever down, and if you’re feeling achey that will go away too.” Saeyoung explains, talking so carefully like his words might knock Saeran over. “It doesn’t do anything else.”

  
  


Saeran doesn’t say anything. MC comes back with a rattly bottle in her hands, the pills inside making even more noise when she shakes one out. “You just need something to eat with it, but I take it all the time when I get sick.” She gives him a soft smile, her hand cupped to keep the medication in her palm. “They don't make you tired either, it just helps, if you want to take them.”

  
  


“I don’t need it.” Saeran says again, more firmly this time. “Just let me wake up more, I just got out of bed.” He puts his head back down, the coolness of the table is still enough to sting a little.

  
  


“Do you want breakfast then? You can take the medicine after you eat.” Saeyoung makes a plate for him without even asking if he's hungry enough, but Saeran is relieved to see that it's at least not as full as Saeyoung usually makes his plates.

  
  


It’s nothing special, just some eggs and toast. The edges of the egg whites look a little crispy and the yolk of one of them is a little overcooked- obviously one that Saeyoung had cooked. There's a piece of toast even though he knows how much Saeran hates bread, but it looks the least threatening. Saeran tears a corner off of the toast and nibbles on it, the butter spread over it makes it slightly more tolerable, but the texture makes it hard to swallow, he remembers the scraps that Saeyoung had brought to him when they were little. Always bread.

 

He forces the small bite of bread that's been chewed too many times down his throat. He hates it, hates the power some stupid food has over him, that this weird spongey stuff can ruin his mood. Saeran picks up the fork to pick at the white of the egg, MC and Saeyoung are resuming whatever conversation they'd been having earlier, but Saeran catches his brother peeking over at him more than once. Saeran scoops up what he'd pulled away from the egg and puts it in his mouth, it goes down just a little easier than the toast. He can manage this, if he just eats this little bit he can go back to bed without any problems, these two are pretty absorbed in the conversation anyway.

 

MC is twirling some of her hair around her fingers, the pills in her hand tap against the table when she sets them down. “And I told him, just _take_ it, it'll be good for him anyway.” Saeran freezes, he hadn't been paying that much attention to the conversation, but the phrase pierces itself into his ears. It's just a bad day, has he eaten enough yet? What's on his plate is barely touched, will Saeyoung be mad? Will MC be mad? He sets his fork down and it clatters slightly on the table. MC and Saeyoung look over, concerned, but Saeran doesn't look at him.

  
  


The pearly white tablets stare back up at him, they’re not even the same shape as the ones that Rika had been pushing for him to take. There’s a little number stamped on there, and a line down the middle.

  
  


Medicine. Pills. The control he always lost when he would down those tablets. Remember the way Rika would get so angry when she didn’t take her own medicine and when she was angry things never went right and she reminded him so much of his mother and he remembers, remembers, remembers and Saeran feels like he might die if he can't forget.

  
  


Remember. This is not the same. Remember. Saeyoung is right here, this is the medicine he wants Saeran to take so he won’t feel so ill. He just wants Saeran to eat so he can take the medicine. Remember the way mother would get upset when Saeyoung would take extra time during his trips to retrieve whatever pills or syrups were needed. Remember the way mother would scream and fight when Saeran was too weak to eat whatever she gave him. It was almost always bread. How she would be so mean when Saeran didn't want to take any of the foul tasting medicine that she had claimed she'd paid so much money for. Mother was always mad that Saeran was so sick so often.

  
  


The chair scrapes noisily across the floor when he stands up quickly, he needs to leave, he’s going to be so _sick_ and they can’t see. Saeyoung calls after him as he walks as fast as he can to the bathroom and _fuck_ the door doesn’t lock anymore, how could he forget? He presses his back against it and fumbles with the nonfunctional lock, hoping that maybe it will catch just enough that he can be sick in peace. The room spins and his legs feel weak but he stays up even when Saeyoung pushes against the door and knocks furiously. MC is trying to hush him out in the hallway, Saeran hears her trying to get him to _just give him a minute, Saeyoung._

  
  


There’s too much noise, he can’t handle this and he tries the lock once more before he pushes away from the door and crouches to the floor next to the toilet. If he doesn’t make a mess of the floor maybe he won’t get in so much trouble, maybe it won’t be so bad. He can handle the aching and the woozy feeling of a fever but the persistent rolling and clenching of his stomach is too much. The handle catches and Saeran prays that the lock actually holds this time, Saeyoung is pushing  on the door hard enough to make the wood creak and the locking mechanism protests with a loud click. There’s so much yelling, Saeyoung sounds more concerned than anything else but he’s so frantic on the other side of the door.

  
  


The lock finally gives out and Saeyoung bursts into the room. “ _Saeran_.” It comes out in a rush, and he scrambles to squat down next to him. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  
  


“Go. Please just.” Saeran shudders violently, he curls in on himself but it does nothing to help calm his stomach. “Please go away.” He whimpers, unable to find the energy to even try to put up a menacing front. “Leave me alone.” Don’t watch, don’t touch. Saeran holds his head in hands and tries to breathe a little deeper but he can’t get the feeling out of his stomach.

  
  


Saeyoung touches him again, it makes him more nauseous. He barely moves out of his reach and loses the small portion of food he had eaten earlier. His brother says something, probably just a shocked sound to match MC’s, but everything is so much louder, like someone had taken the remote to his brain and cranked the volume up as high as it can go.

  
  


_Disgusting, wretched child. She seethes._ Saeran wants to hide. _Always so messy, everything about you is a mess._ The bind on his ankle is too tight, she’s wrapped his chest this time. _Stupid, stupid boy._ He’s been bad. _You’re such a bad, bad person._ She’s wrapped his brain this time. _Nasty. Terrible, worthless little thing._

  
  


Saeran is sobbing openly now, and Saeyoung can’t remember the last time he’s seen so much emotion on his brother’s face. The choked hiccups bound off the tiled walls of the bathroom, something that sounds like an apology might be in there too. “Saeran, _Saeran,_ ” He tries to untangle him from his ball, but Saeran has found enough strength in his shaking body to keep himself from budging. “Saeran, you’re _okay._ ” He looks to MC for some kind of guidance, some kind of answer but she’s still standing in the doorway to the bathroom. Hand over her mouth, eyes so wide and she looks like she might bolt right there.

  
  


“Go _away_.” Saeran’s voice has gone shrill, now, rough and raw from the acid rushing through his throat and he feels it in his veins. It burns, burns hot like the tears in his eyes and he can’t get himself to stop. Remember, remember, but it’s all the wrong parts now. There are prying hands at his wrists, trying to pull him apart again but Saeran is so unraveled already he might break if he doesn’t keep himself hidden.

  
  


“You just got sick,” Saeyoung is trying to talk over his sobs, but his voice shakes too. “Mom’s not here, Saeran. She can’t be here.” He’s just trying to help, Saeran doesn’t deserve it.

  
  


“Saeyoung,” MC has moved now, crouching beside her boyfriend and now she’s the one tugging, trying to pull Saeyoung away. “G-give him space.” She’s just trying to help.

  
  


She’s just trying to help. _I’m just trying to help, Saeran._

  
  


Saeran pushes with all of his might, scrambling against his twin with a shriek. “ _St-stop. Stop touch-touching me._ ” He _begs,_ there’s not enough air in this room to fill his lungs. “Stop. Stop. Stop stop _stopstopstop_ …” The hands finally leave, and there’s frantic shuffling and Saeran backs himself into the corner and hides behind his hands. “Stop.” He sobs, chanting it over and over again and his throat feels so raw he wonders when his voice will give out, when the air he's desperately trying to suck in will just stop.

 

“I-I'm sorry.” Saeyoung splutters, moving his hands wildly in the air in front of his chest. Reach out, pull back, reach out, flex his fingers into fists, pull back. “Saeran, _Saeran_ , what happened? I can, I can call a doctor if you're sick. Shit, we really don't have anything here to help, l-let me just. _Fuck._ ” He's panicking and Saeran is panicking and it's so much, Saeran wraps his arms tight around his legs and hides his face in his knees.

  
  


“Saeyoung,” MC takes hold of his arm gently, trying to get his attention. “Honey, try and calm down a little, okay?” Saeyoung takes in a deep, shuddering breath. Saeran tries to do the same, he's brought himself down before, but it's never been so intense. There's not really a calm person here for him to try and match with, there's no soft tick of a metronome like there is in his therapist’s office. Saeyoung is dragging a hand through his hair, making even more of a mess of the thick mop of red.

  
  


MC gives him a few minutes, rubbing his arm and murmuring encouragement, but Saeran breaks the silence first.

"I want to trust you" Saeran groans, his hands gripping at his hair. "But I don't know fucking how and I'm so sorry. I don't know if I even feel bad about everything that I've done to you, and I wish I could." And he means it, means it from the deepest part of his soul that he can reach. It's not even what's _wrong_ right now, but it's the first thing that comes to mind, and he can't stop talking even though his throat is so raw. “This is so fucking stupid.” He grits his teeth, holding his legs tighter to his chest.

 

"Saeran, its-" MC starts, but the words die in her throat when Saeran lifts his head to look at her, tears welling up in his eyes again.

  
  


"You don't know the things I was going to do to you. _Both_ of you. I watched you the entire time you were unlocking the apartment, MC, I was going to take you if you didn't go along with it. I wanted to do things worse than killing you." MC doesn't respond, and Saeran can't hold back anymore. "You were going to help me tear the RFA apart whether you wanted to or not, I would've had you get close to Saeyoung just so you could watch me kill him. Don't say you can forgive me for that when you don't even know what I was going to do."

  
  


Her eyes are wide and her mouth is open like she wants to say something, her mouth opens and closes a few times before Saeran speaks again, his voice wavers pathetically. "Don't you dare tell me it's okay. You know that’s a lie.”

  
  


The three of them sit in silence after that. MC takes a few deep breaths, Saeran tries to keep himself from hiccuping.

 

"I'm still. I'm still working on forgiving you." MC eventually says, leaning back against the wall and breathing deeply. "It's a lot, and I want to tell you 'it's okay' because I know it's not, but I want it to be someday."

  
  


Saeran laughs, hollow and brittle. "You say that like it'll happen next month."

  
  


MC shakes her head and starts to twist the ends of her hair around her fingers. "It won't, I know that. But I'd... I’d like to think that we're making some kind of progress."

 

Progress. Saeran is sitting in the same spot in the same bathroom he was a year ago today, still feverish and deeply sick to his stomach and shaking where he sits. "I don't feel like anything has changed. I feel worse than I did a year ago." That’s all anyone ever talks about, he feels so stuck. Every day life is still a chore so often, he doesn’t feel any better after the bi-weekly therapy sessions. Everything just makes him so tired, it feels like, like there’s nothing else to really be done. Has he really gone this stagnant? When did the changes stop?

  
  


"You really don't?" He looks over to MC when she speaks up, pulling him just enough out of his head. "The Saeran I knew a year ago wouldn't let me sit in here, he wouldn't be sitting here with me being so open. You wouldn't be talking with me at all, really.” MC licks her lips, trying to find the words she needs for this. “Saeran… you’re really trying. I know you are, we can’t expect things to get better so soon.”

  
  


“She’s right.” Saeyoung says quietly, looking down at his hands in his lap. “This is going to be a long road. For all of us.” He pulls at his fingers, trying to pop his knuckles. “One set back doesn't mean it's all gone to waste.”

  
  


It’s quiet again. There’s a soft sound of fabric being moved, Saeran figures MC and Saeyoung must be trying to comfort each other. “Sometimes I don’t think I can make it.” Saeran admits, small and fragile. “I’ve already done so much to ruin all of this.” He finally lifts his head, but he only looks ahead to the wooden cabinets under the sink. He traces the grain of the wood with his eyes. “I just panicked over looking at _pills_ , how the fuck am I supposed to do this if I can’t look at a stupid painkiller.”

  
  


“Sometimes I get freaked out when I see certain kinds of cars.” Saeyoung says with a dry laugh. “I get really antsy when I get too hot. Dogs freak me out too.”

 

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Saeran looks away from the sink to his brother, watches him wring his hands more in his lap.

  
  


“Everyone has something that makes them really uncomfortable, sometimes they’re weird things.” Saeyoung explains, the start of a smile on his lips even though he doesn’t look up. “You have more than enough reason to be anxious over some pills, Saeran.”

 

MC nods. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hear glass crack without freaking out for a minute.” She adds, then makes an apologetic face when Saeran looks over at her. That’s _his_ fault, how deeply has he damaged her? How badly has he messed up Saeyoung? “B-but there are other things to, blood scares me a lot. One time I cried for twenty minutes when I nicked myself shaving, there wasn’t even that much but I was terrified I was gonna bleed out.”

 

“She's scared of spiders, too.” Saeyoung's laugh is more natural this time when MC swats at his arm. “ _Really_ scared.”

 

“Who wouldn't be?” She frowns, but she tones her voice down when Saeran flinches at the sound. “They have too many legs! They bite!”

  
Saeran doesn't really understand what is pushing the words out of his mouth at this point, he wants to blame his sickness, but he's too familiar with that feeling to try and pull that. This is a new kind of feeling, a deep desire in his chest to say something, to match his brother and his girlfriend. The two of them talk softly while Saeran sits there, opening and closing his mouth several times as he tries to get the words together correctly. “I. I used to...” The couple beside him falls quiet when he speaks up, waiting patiently for him to find his words as they well up from his throat. “Mother. She got mad when I got sick.” Is that even a surprise? Neither of them are in the dark about anything to do with his and Saeyoung's mother, but Saeyoung rests his hand on his shoulder anyway. “Extremely mad.” He clarifies, relieved when he shrugs off Saeyoung's hand and it drops without any protests.

Saeyoung shakes his head, he starts to pick at a hangnail until MC pulls his hand away. “I completely forgot about that,” He sighs. “I didn't mean to make it worse, I just saw you get up and run in here and I thought I did something wrong, like you were mad at me.”

“I'm not going to run away.” Saeran says, and he means that too. “I got over that a while ago. I don't have anywhere to go, anyway. You'd know if I was mad at you, anyway.” Saeyoung laughs once at that.

“I know. I'm still working on that too.” He sighs, and MC takes his hand. “It's a process, like I said. I don't expect you to be better ASAP, but I can't be either.”

“You're working on it.” MC squeezes his hand, looking at Saeran. “Both of you are, and you have a lot of people who care about both of you.” She lets go of Saeyoung, making a sound when she gets up from the floor like it takes some kind of herculean effort. “Like me! And I care about you two enough that I think you should get out of the bathroom, my butt is gonna go numb if we sit here any longer.”

Saeyoung puts the back of his hand to his forehead, the dramatic gasp he lets out is still a little too loud for Saeran. “So kind! Oh, my dear queen, help your god stand! My butt has already gone numb!” Saeran resists putting his hands over his ears when they make too much noise, hopefully the rest of the bunker won't be as noisy as the bathroom where all the sound echoes off the walls.

Saeran braces his hand on the floor, but Saeyoung reaches his hand out just before he can try to push himself up. He looks at the outstretched hand for a moment before he takes it, grimacing at the ache that's pushing more persistently through his body now. Saeyoung wraps his arms around his shoulder to help steady him, and Saeran doesn't have the energy to put up a fight. Saeyoung is warm against his clammy skin, and it soothes some of the ache.

-

The couch isn’t very comfortable, but MC had grabbed a few pillows from Saeran’s bed and she’s propped them up against the arm of the couch and it’s good enough for now, Saeyoung feels better when he can hover and fuss easily. Saeran is too exhausted and sick to really put up a fight over it at this point. He doesn’t answer to any of his questions- do you need another blanket? Another pillow? Is the light too bright? Let me turn it off, is that better?

 

“Are you feeling any better?” Saeyoung asks again, settling down on the floor at the end of the couch where Saeran’s head is resting. The living room is much quieter than the bathroom, the pillows help muffle some of the noise.

  
  


He doesn’t open his eyes, and burrows farther into the warmth of the blanket. “I’m fine.” There's not really enough room to extend his legs fully on the couch, but he's fine with being curled up in a ball under the blankets. There's shuffling against the carpet, and Saeran opens his eyes to see MC standing by Saeyoung, two glasses of water in her hands and the pill bottle balanced along with one of the cups.

 

She sets one of the glasses down on the coffee table after she pulls a coaster over. “You still don't have to take these.” She says, looking more serious than usual. “And this is kind of silly, but... if you want to, I'll take them with you, so you know that it won't do anything besides make you feel better. If you take one, since you couldn't eat, it shouldn't upset your stomach.”

 

Saeran blinks, then looks to her cupped hand. His anxiety starts to spike again, but he squeezes his hand under the blankets, inhaling deeply as he pushes himself up. He can take one pill, MC wouldn't be offering to take it if there was some kind of trick to it. He adjusts the blanket that's pooled around his lap for a moment, then nods. MC smiles and works the cap off of the bottle, tapping the side of it until one of the Tiaranol drops onto Saeran's palm.

 

It's completely different than Rika's pills. The texture of it is different, a different shape, a different purpose. Saeyoung hands him the glass of water from the coffee table while MC shakes her own out of the bottle. Saeran takes a sip of the water while he prepares himself, it's just a _pill_ _,_ he tells himself. It's really just a pill this time, real medicine.

 

“You really don't if you don't want to, Saeran.” MC reminds him, she has her other hand cupped to keep the pill in place.

 

“It's fine.” Saeran says, and he means it. He takes a bigger mouthful of the water this time, and MC does the same. She pops it into her mouth without any problems, and smiles at him when it's down. His hand shakes a little as he slips the pill into his mouth and swallows it quickly with a shiver. He shuts his eyes and downs the rest of the water. Just a pill. He holds out the empty glass and Saeyoung takes it from him.

 

“There you go.” He says, and he starts to pull the blankets back up before Saeran is even fully laying down again. “Now take a nap or something, we'll get you up for lunch if you're hungry by then.”

 

Saeran pulls the blanket up to his nose and burrows into the pillows, pushing at Saeyoung's shoulder through the blanket. “You don't have to sit there the entire time, idiot.” He pushes one more time, then pulls his hands up to his chest and closes his eyes. “I'm not going to run away in my sleep.”

 

Saeyoung pushes back, but stands up from his seat on the floor. “I know, I know.” He scrubs his hand through Saeran's hair, laughing when he pulls his head under the blanket. “Just go to sleep, don't suffocate under there.”

 

Saeran considers pulling one of his hands out to flip him off, but it's so warm under his nest of blankets he doesn't want any part of his body to leave it. He falls asleep on the couch to the sound of whatever Saeyoung put on the television before leaving the living room.

  
  


  
**xiv.**

“Does anyone have any questions? Or ideas?” Jumin turns his head to address everyone at the table while Jaehee clicks her pen, hand poised over her notepad.

 

“I have a mentor who has some good connections.” Zen offers, tapping his fingers against his glass of water. “She's very efficient, and super nice too. She runs a dance studio, and I think she would be a good guest.”

 

MC looks excited from her seat, whipping her phone out to scroll through some of her emails. “She could talk with the Drop the Beat guy! He's weird, but at least she would at least have someone with similar interests to talk to.”

 

“What, like talking to me isn't good enough?” Zen winks, and Saeran rolls his eyes so far back in his head he wonders if they might come back. Of course Zen is trying to make this some kind of opportunity to flirt. When isn't he? He's called Saeran “babe” at least twice in the past hour and a half that this meeting has been going on, although one of those was him collectively addressing the entire group as “the babes”.

 

Except for Jumin, he had said. Jumin didn't seem phased at all if he was even listening.

 

But Zen undoubtedly has the right connections to be making for this party, even with Saeran's limited knowledge of just who or what this event is supposed to be a fundraiser for. Maybe this is really all just for fun, everyone seems so into the guest list without any mention of what exactly the money is being raised for.

 

“As far as organizations that Assistant Kang and I have been looking into, we have quite a few.” Jumin finally touches the packet of paper in front of him, licking his finger before he flips up the first page. “The ones we've selected are here, along with some of your suggestions.” He pulls one of the sheets of paper out from the stack. “I think this one is from you, Yoosung?”

 

Yoosung pipes up, raising his hand a little. “Yeah! There's a clinic near the one I'm about to start work-study with, they take in abandoned animals almost exclusively, and I think they could use our help. It's run by an old lady and her wife, I know we usually go for large organizations when we throw parties, but I thought it couldn't hurt to consider them.”

 

“You just wanted to put in _something_ , right?” Saeyoung grins, then he laughs when Yoosung shoots him a pout. “How cute! Of course you would find the old ladies taking care of puppies, our cutie Yoosung is so sweet. I'm swooning!”

 

“Shut up!” Yoosung whines, flopping back in his chair. “You don't even have anything to give us, Saeyoung. We all know that place you talked about that helps people get married in space is a joke.”

 

"There is one organization that I did quite a bit of research on." Jaehee interrupts Saeyoung right when he opens his mouth, pushing up her glasses. "Mr. Han, would you mind finding the information sheet? It might be the last one."

 

Jumin leafs through the packet. "Oh, yeah. Assistant Kang suggested this earlier in the week, we were thinking this would be of interest to you, Saeran."

 

To him..? Saeran stops his fidgeting in his lap, feeling everyone's eyes boring into him. He doesn't look up.

 

"Shouldn't you be picking places that are more for the rest of you?" Saeran asks, almost raising his gaze to look at Jumin, but he ends up looking down at the table when everyone turns toward him. Being in here is enough, but six pairs of eyes on him is enough to make his skin crawl. "This is your fundraiser."

 

"But you're part of this too, Saeran." Zen leans his elbows the table. "RFA is family, bro."

 

"Yeah!! We all choose this stuff together, it wouldn't be an organization if one person just chose everything." Yoosung is swinging from side to side in his chair again. "What is it, Jumin?"

 

"Well, it's not just catering to Saeran's interest. This applies to Saeyoung as well." Jumin pulls one of the pieces of paper out and places it on top of the stack. "And Zen, I suppose. This was a very good find, Assistant Kang.”

 

Zen makes a slightly impressed noise. “That's quite the catch-all you have there, Jaehee. What, did you find a group of hackers who do musicals?”

 

Saeyoung laughs, throwing his head back and spinning in his chair. “Oooh! Let's do that! I can picture it now, _A Tale of Two Brothers and also Zen._ ”

 

“God, no.” Saeran rolls his eyes. “You can't sing for shit.”

 

“Shouldn't the musical star be first in the title? If you really want people to come, put what's important first.”

 

“It's an all boy's foster home.” Jaehee says, giving Saeyoung an unamused look, addressing Zen instead. "They don't seem to be particularly in need of financial support, but I would hope that our donations could at least bring some attention to those that do need help." She looks through her notepad, pointing at something she had written earlier. “They also work with an all girl's home as well, but I have yet to hear from them. I think starting with one will be more than enough.”

 

Jumin nods. “We still need to consult further with the organization. MC, we will of course be helping you with that since this is the first party where you will need to do more than invite guests.” MC nods along, looking up from her phone every now and then as she sends off invite emails to the list of previous guests. “And Saeran, I do apologize if we've assumed too much. I was thinking maybe we could-”

 

"That one." Saeran cuts him off, making eye contact with Jumin for the first time. Jumin looks a bit surprised- he's probably not used to someone trying to talk over him. Saeran holds his gaze though. "This is supposed to help people, right? Money would be better for kids than some dogs or whatever... Uhm... n-no offense." He adds, looking over to Yoosung.

 

Yoosung just beams at him. “None taken! It's a really good cause either way, maybe we can have a small fundraiser for them. Oh! Oh, should I just make them lunch one day? Can _we_ bring them lunch?”

 

“Let's get the party planning out of the way first, Yoosung.” MC leans back in her chair, lacing her fingers over her stomach. “Then we can get lunch for them. We should get lunch for _us_ after this, I'm starving.” Saeran hopes they get this over with soon, but this is the fifth time they've gotten off subject since this meeting began, and the hope of lunch seems to be getting slimmer and slimmer.

 

Jaehee runs a hand through her hair, somehow managing a sincere looking smile. “Maybe we should just discuss guests over lunch, but we need to make sure that we're all on the same page here.”

 

“I'll place in order with the chef, but we do need to take a vote on it first.” Jumin holds up the information sheet on the foster home and glances around the table. “All opposed?”

 

Thank god. Saeran looks down at the chipping nail polish on his fingers and picks at one of the pieces that's starting to flake off. Maybe he can convince Saeyoung to let him go home now that he's been through his first meeting. There's no response to Jumin's question, and he waits an obscene amount of time to speak up again.

 

“All in favor?”

 

What are they actually going to eat for lunch? He hopes it's not anything overly extravagant, just being in this pristine looking conference room is enough to make Saeran uncomfortable. Saeyoung knocks his knee against his, and Saeran looks up from his nails to glare at him. “What?” He asks, then notices the change in the people around him. All of them are raising a hand in the air, even Jumin. They're all looking at him expectantly. “ _What?_ ” He asks again, kicking at his twin's foot when he nudges him again.

 

“You have to vote, man. You in or not?” Saeyoung asks, twiddling his fingers in the air.

 

Saeran scoffs. “I already said yes.”

 

“But you haven't voted.” Zen points out. “C'mon, are you in favor or what? You just put up a hand, babe, simple as that.”

 

“I told you to stop calling me that.” Saeran huffs, but flops his wrist so his hand is raised, ignoring the wink Zen aims at him. “There. I voted.” His hand falls before everyone elses- why do they all look so pleased at him raising his hand? Saeran tries to sink back further into his chair.

 

Jumin puts down the sheet of paper and pushes the small stack off to the side. "Then we have the most difficult choice out of the way, I like the idea of discussing our initial guest list over lunch.”

 

Everyone is chattering excitedly about lunch now, even Zen seems keen on getting free food, but Saeran is back to picking at his nail polish. Is it that easy? Just agree with something and then it's done? Is this really how professional organizations work? He doesn't understand why his vote should even count, much less why Jumin had taken the time- and Jaehee's- to find something that he could relate to. But at this point everyone is much more focused on ordering food and trying to think of guests than Saeran's mild crisis going on.

 

He feels _warm_ , sitting in this room full of jokes and playful jabbing with the promise of something to eat. He doesn't even know exactly what's coming into the conference room, but Saeran tries to not to dwell on the realization that he trusts all of these people enough to have chosen something that they could all enjoy- something to include Saeran once again.

 

**xv.**

It's been maybe a week since someone has come by the bunker, excluding MC, who has basically moved in at this point. She and Saeyoung had nervously proposed the idea of inviting the rest of the RFA over for dinner, making it very clear that no one will even think of going into Saeran's room if he goes in there, and that everyone will leave at some point in the night.

 

“I'd just really like it if you would at least eat with us. You don't have to help cook or anything!” Saeyoung begs, playing up the theatrics but Saeran can see the worry in his eyes, the acknowledgment that Saeran could just say no and ignore it all.

 

Saeran considers it as well, he very well could just brush this off without a second thought. He has no _real_ obligation to be doing this, he's already sat in on that emotionally exhausting meeting earlier in the week, and dinner sounds like a whole new kind of hassle. Being within a ten mile radius of Saeyoung and MC when they decide to cook together is a much noisier affair than it needs to be- with music cranked too loud and Saeyoung's horrendous attempts at singing along that are almost as bad as the dance moves Saeran has seen out of the corner of his eye.

 

But the meeting hadn't been anywhere near as painful as he had imagined it to be, Saeran rubs the worn out cover of the book he'd been reading before the couple had appeared before him. MC has her arms wrapped around one of Saeyoung's, tilting her head cutely while she flashes a smile at Saeran. “We can even have dessert~,” She sings. “Everyone is bringing something, Zen said he'd get us all the fish bread we can eat. He promised some omelets too!”

 

This is going to be _much_ different than the meeting, with Saeyoung insisting that the dress code is simply “ _no shirt, no shoes, no worries”._ A room with a blanket pinned up for a door is better than having to sit in a chair for nearly three hours anyway, and Saeran is already starting to feel a bit hungry at just the mention of food. “Fine.” He murmurs, flinching a bit at their victorious shout. “I don't know why you're even mentioning me cooking,” He sighs, curling up tighter into his spot on the couch. “You both know I can't cook for shit.”

 

Saeyoung already has his phone out, the soft music of the messenger coming through the speaker as he types frantically. “You say that like I can! Don't worry your pretty little head, Saeran, we've all got it from here~.”

 

MC stands on her toes to peek at Saeyoung's phone. “ _Please_ tell me Jaehee is making cake, if she doesn't I think I'd cry. Should we just have dessert for dinner?” _Yes_ , Saeran thinks, but he's busy pretending he's reading his book to voice his thoughts. “Well, I guess we really shouldn't, but we should do that soon. Maybe after the party?” Saeran doesn't want to wait that long, he frowns at the page he's been staring at for the past minute or so.

 

Saeyoung pumps his fist, Saeran can hear the sigh of one of Jaehee's emoji form the phone. “Cake Master Kang's Delicious Cake Confirmed!!” He grins. “I don't even care what anyone else brings, I'm gonna destroy this cake. Oh! Zen is making omelets, _fuck_ right. We're eatin' good tonight.” He pokes Saeran's foot with his own, sprinting off to the kitchen before his younger brother can effectively swat at the offending foot.

 

-

 

Zen arrives first with Yoosung in tow, both of them carrying several tupperwares full of food. They're both kind enough to just shout their greetings to Saeran when they walk in, and he's grateful that they're past the point of trying to make small talk. Saeran is more surprised to see that Zen has adhered to the casual dress code, he didn't even know if Zen owned a plain t shirt or not. Saeyoung and MC are shouting hellos from the kitchen soon enough that they become the center of attention, and all of the noise is enough that Saeran has officially given up on trying to read his book.

 

“I really didn't know what to bring,” Yoosung is saying, juggling three different tubs in his arms as he tries to clear a spot on the counter for him to unload on. “So I just... uh, made a lot of stuff we can eat on the side. I found a recipe online for some dip? I figured you would have enough chips if anyone wants to eat it, Saeyoung.”

 

Saeran looks over into the kitchen to see MC ruffling Yoosung's hair, making more of a mess of it. “Of course we're going to eat it! I was worried we weren't going to have anything on the side, thank you Yoosung!”

 

“He made _so many_.” Zen laughs, depositing what he had been carrying for Yoosung on the counter. “Seriously dude, there's like two whole things of dip. Did you double the recipe or something?”

 

Yoosung makes a face, pointing a very serious finger at Zen. “Okay, listen.” He starts, ignoring the way Zen guffaws at his tone. “I just wanted to make sure there would be enough for everyone! I tripled it, I'll eat your share if you're gonna give me grief.” Saeran nearly laughs along with everyone, but keeps up his facade of reading to avoid any of this conversation. He's more than content to just sit and listen, he figures he did enough talking during the official meeting that he can get away with staying on the sidelines where it's comfortable.

 

Jaehee and Jumin arrive just as Zen starts working on these omelets he's been going on about for the better part of an hour, Saeran rises from the couch when Saeyoung hollers about being too busy trying to chop vegetables to the beat of whatever is playing on the radio along with MC. Yoosung is occupied cheering them both on, so Saeran gets up with maybe half as much grumping as usual. He puts in the code to open the door just as it changes the question to _please tell me the square root of 42,069 in Mandarin_ , and the two at the door actually sigh in relief when they're rescued.

 

“Hello, Saeran.” Jumin greets, nodding his head. He's carrying a huge gift basket, and Saeran tries not to eye the impressive collection of sweets too obviously. The cake that Jaehee is holding in her arms is also incredibly tempting, but he tears his eyes away and steps back to let them in.

 

“They're in the kitchen.” He says quietly, and they usher themselves in with polite thank you's and smiles. Saeran goes back to the couch after he closes the door, everyone is so preoccupied in the kitchen he doesn't even need to pretend that he's reading to spy on them.

 

MC apparently won the vegetable chopping contest, and she's trying her hardest to get Jaehee to dance along with her to the next song coming from the stereo. She's already got Yoosung on her side, who's giggling like mad at Jaehee's stuttering when Saeyoung agrees with MC that Jaehee “definitely has the hips for this song”. Saeran has absolutely no desire to get up from his spot, especially when MC starts trying to teach Jumin how to roll his body with the song. He picks up the book again just to get the image out of his head.

 

He actually gets back into the story despite the commotion, and manages to finish a few chapters by the time the table is set and some extra chairs are pulled up to the little table in the dining room. Zen comes bounding over to the couch, knocking his fist against the back of it. “Knock, knock.” He grins, motioning with his hand when Saeran looks up at him. “Let's go eat, bookworm. You're going to _die_ when you have my omelets.”

 

Saeran just rolls his eyes and twists his hips a bit just to see Zen's horrified shudder at the way his back pops. “Yeah, yeah.” Saeran says and makes his way to the table, a bit taken aback by just how much food is spread out on the surface. Yoosung is trying to place an obscene amount of chips on the platter holding his dip, smacking Saeyoung's hand away when he tries to throw some Honey Buddha in there. MC excitedly tells everyone to just _sit down already_ , and starts filling plates with bits of everything on the table. Saeran is about to tell her he can make his own but she's made his first, handing it over to him with a bright smile.

 

“Eat up!” Saeran adjusts his hold on the plate, nearly grimacing at how heavy it is. There's no way he can eat all of this, he has a hard enough time getting through the small portions he usually lays out for himself. But everyone's plate is loaded similarly, Zen is piling his plate up even more somehow. “I hope you all know you're getting leftovers, we have too much food.” MC laughs again, finally putting some food on her own plate.

 

Jumin is handing out napkins, one already folded neatly in his lap. “I do hope these omelets don't make me as sick as they did last time, Zen.”

 

Zen huffs, giving Jumin the finger. “You say that like you were the _only_ one who got sick, asshole. I buy bad eggs _one time-_ ” Saeran tunes him out, accepting a glass of water from Saeyoung when one makes it to him. How is he going to eat even an acceptable amount of all of this? He still has to make room for that cake that's staring him down from the counter.

 

He looks down at the plate in front of him, and it hits him so suddenly he feels like he's been punched in the stomach. It's not like this is the first time he's eaten or anything, but he's just overwhelmed suddenly by the fact that this is his _plate_. This is the same place he's been sitting at for the past year most nights to eat, this is the same dish set they use all the time. He's been fed at least twice a day for an entire year now, he's getting close to forgetting what it was like to be hungry for most of the day if not most of the week. Saeran just sits there, vaguely aware of the continued chatter from the others at the table while he looks down at the barely touched food in front of him.

 

It's not even anything extravagant, Saeran tells himself to try and fight down the lump that's growing rapidly in his throat. It's just a mess of different foods that make no sense together. All of these ingredients and dishes are really poorly matched but the smell is heavenly. Saeran swallows hard and takes a small bite of the omelet first, trying to reign himself in. But the food is good, it's warm and gooey and eases the tightness in his chest even though his eyes are now burning badly with tears. He puts his head in his hands with a shaking sigh, and all conversation around him stops.

 

“Saeran?” Saeyoung asks almost immediately, letting the piece of food he had been bringing to his mouth fall back on the plate with a wet _plop_. “A-are you okay? What happened?! Are you sick? Is the food bad? Do I-”

 

Saeran shakes his head hard, clenching his fists when he can't hold back a soft sob. “Sh-shut up.” His breathing hiccups a few times when he tries to breathe in deep, tries to steady himself. “I'm okay.”

 

What a strange thing to say and to actually mean for once. Even though he's crying over some goddamn food he feels alright, something heavy and tight uncoiling in his chest for the first time. Saeyoung won't believe it, though, and he continues to fret enough that some of the other members get in on it too.

 

Well, mainly Yoosung, who looks like he might start crying as well from where he sits across from Saeran. “Are you allergic to something? O-or are the things I made not good? You don't have to eat them!” He splutters for a second, waving his hands so wildly he almost knocks his cup over. “S-some of it kind of got burnt, but that's on the bottom and-”

 

“Shut up.” Saeran sniffles again, wiping roughly at his eyes with his napkin. “It's... it's all really good.” The table falls silent again, and Saeran tries to push down the flare of guilt for crying at family dinner. _Family dinner._ This is family, cooking too much food and not judging Saeran for crying all over this mess of eggs and chips with dip.

 

Zen clears his throat, his smile wobbling just a bit when he reaches to clap Saeran on the shoulder. “I've never had someone cry over my omelets before.” He jokes, snorting when Saeran brushes his hand off. “Should I be taking that as a compliment?”

 

“Only if Jumin cries.” Saeran mutters, and he jumps a bit in surprise when that gets a laugh out of everyone. Even Jumin is chuckling as he cuts a piece off of his own omelet, somehow making the simple action look prestigious as he lifts the bite up to his mouth and eats it. Everyone watches him as he chews and swallows.

 

“Well, we'll have to wait and see if these are better than the last time.” Jumin... jokes? Saeran can't really tell, but the smile that's still playing on his lips seems like it should be telling enough. Even so, Zen is starting to fuss again for maybe a minute before he's getting enough compliments on his share of food and Saeyoung begs him to try the dip and shoves the chips toward him.

 

Saeran hurries to wipe away the rest of the tear tracks still on his cheeks, but he still sniffles a little as he picks around at what's on his plate. He doesn't trust himself to keep his emotions in check to really contribute to the conversations that are floating around the table, but the rest of the RFA is at least having mercy on him and carrying on with their own jokes and stories that he's not entirely in on. This has to be the most food Saeran has ever seen in his life without any exaggeration, and definitely the most that's ever been offered to him. He somehow clears most of his plate before any of the others can finish even with how slow Saeran eats, but things take longer when you spend most of dinner talking instead of eating, he supposes.

 

Saeyoung's suggestion from earlier crosses his mind, that he could just retreat to his room now that he's spent the time to eat with everyone- he can feel his nose burn again at the thought and mentally kicks himself, he's already gotten stupid emotional over having his own _bed_ months ago, he can't cry at the table again. Saeran pushes the few leftover bites around on his plate while he waits for everyone else to finish, he can settle for staying in this spot until at least one other person gets up. This is his favorite story that MC tells, anyway.

 

-

 

Dinner finally ends and nearly everyone has migrated to the living room, still going on about how good everything had been. Yoosung and MC have taken control of the couch, sprawled out with their legs over the back of the couch. Saeran can hear MC trying to get Jaehee to join them in their “cuddle puddle” as she calls it while he eyes the dishes sitting in the sink from where he's standing just outside the living room. Aside from the sporadic glances in his direction, no one is really paying attention to him, so he slinks off without anyone noticing.

 

Saeran picks up the few glasses that were left on the table and carries them over to the plates stacked in the sink, dumping the ones that weren't finished down the sink. He leans down to the dishwasher and opens the door to check; it's not completely full, but he's going to have to wash some of these by hand. There's the tupperware too, those should probably be clean before any leftovers are put in them. Saeran places what he can in the racks of the dishwasher, pulling the box of soap from under the sink to run it. He rolls up the sleeves of his shirt and turns on the sink, letting the water run warm before he puts the stopper in and drizzles soap along the bottom.

 

“Ohoho!” Saeyoung's laughter makes Saeran jump, and he whips around to glare at his grinning brother. “Such a sweet househusband, doing our dishes.” Saeyoung drapes himself over Saeran's back when he turns back to the sink, trying his hardest to keep his back straight when Saeyoung rocks them from side to side. “Can you do my laundry next?”

 

Saeran pushes at the arms wrapped around his middle, then starts slapping when Saeyoung doesn't let go. “Shut up and get off of me.” He huffs, giving one last elbow to his brother's chest. “You're a grown man, do your own damn laundry.” The handle of the sink squeaks a little when he turns it off. “... I didn't cook anything.” He murmurs, picking up the sponge that's sitting on the edge of the sink. Saeyoung stands quietly behind him, Saeran starts scrubbing at a plate while he talks. “So I figured I could at least do this.”

 

One of the drawers in the kitchen rolls open to Saeran's left, Zen is bragging about some new role he's auditioning for in the living room. Saeyoung knocks his hip gently into Saeran's, and he's twirling a dishtowel around his finger when Saeran looks up. “Let me help you out then, I didn't really do any cooking either. You wash, I dry.”

 

“...fine.” Saeran sighs, going back to washing. They work in quiet for a while, just listening to the commotion in the living room. Yoosung seems excited about starting a biology class where he'll get to dissect things and starts rambling off the differences between a cow's eye and a human's. Jumin is trying to convince him to take an internship with C&R despite Zen's protests.

 

Saeran hands Saeyoung a cup to dry and doesn't look at him when he starts talking again. “Y'know,” He starts, voice soft. “I cried when I realized it too.”

 

“Realized what?” Saeran asks. He scrubs at a spot on one of the plates before he realizes it's just a chip in the glaze.

 

Saeyoung opens a cupboard to put the cup away. “That things were going okay, like, _really_ going okay.” He wraps the towel around his hand a few times, looking at his friends in the living room. Saeran feels something weird in his chest when he realizes that those are his friends as well now. “The first time Vanderwood cooked for me I cried for an hour, they were really pissed off.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Just don't be embarrassed about it, I get pretty emotional over Zen's omelets too.”

 

“I'm not embarrassed.” Saeran lies, flicking a cloud of soap bubbles at Saeyoung, but he just laughs.

 

“Sure, sure.” Saeyoung reaches over to scoop up a handful of bubbles and blows them out into the living room, Saeran watches it flutter over the counters. “Just wait until we get into this cake that Jaehee brought, we're all gonna cry.” Saeyoung mimes wiping away tears with the towel and Saeran rolls his eyes.

 

“God, I hope not.” That cake has been staring at Saeran since it came through the door, he can't ruin this by crying again. “I'd like to eat that in peace.”

 

Saeyoung takes the last plate from Saeran's hands, spinning it around to dry it. “I'll cry for you then, it's bomb, dude.” He starts to hum along to some song that's coming from the TV that Zen is singing, knocking his hip to Saeran's to the beat. “Oh, you owe me for this, by the way.”

 

Saeran pulls the stopper from the sink, he should probably be using clean water to wash this tupperware. “I owe you for cleaning up my own mess along with yours?” He asks, giving Saeyoung a shove with his hip.

 

“I dried!” His brother huffs, putting the towel over his shoulder. “I need your help with something later, it's verrrry important.” He winks, and Saeran flicks more water at him. He just hopes Saeyoung isn't trying to get his share of cake.

 

“Fine.” He says, rinsing the lid of the container he'd been washing before he hands it over. “Don't make me do anything stupid and dry this thing.” Saeyoung takes it with promises that it's anything but stupid, and it's not a complete promise that he won't take the cake, but Saeran trusts him.

 

**xvi.**

It's been maybe 5 hours since Saeran has seen the sky.

 

He slips on his shoes and contemplates his jacket where it sits on the hook. It's not as cold as it could be, and the sweater that MC had picked out for him a few weeks ago is plenty thick enough for him to leave his jacket. He slips his hand inside one of the pockets to pull out a slightly bent pack of cigarettes then fully turns his attention to getting outside. The number pad by the door beeps softly, Saeran has entered the five digit unlock code enough times that he barely even needs to look at it to make sure he's putting in the right thing.

 

Saeyoung doesn't even respond to the sound anymore, he's too busy tapping away at his phone while he lays upside down on the couch and kicks his feet in the air. Saeran wonders if maybe he should announce that he's going out for a bit, but this happens so often now that there's no need for it. The soft song of the keypad being used is enough of a warning if Saeyoung even pays attention to it anymore. He doesn't seem too concerned when Saeran looks over his shoulder one more time. He doesn't even respond when the heavy door clicks and groans a little when it's pushed open, and Saeran lets it clank shut behind him as he walks outside of the bunker.

 

Saeran walks quickly through the mess of trees that hide the bunker's entrance, uncaring for the flimsy pack of cigarettes bending a little more when he puts it back in his pocket. It's almost his last one, anyway. The menthol might go stale before he even has the desire to light up the last one. He puts the little stick between his lips, cracking the small menthol ball with his teeth and then lighting it. Saeran has walked this path so many times he doesn't even need to concentrate on walking anymore to miss all of the roots and rocks that used to trip him up.

 

The mess of trees surrounding the bunker eventually begins to thin out, and Saeran looks upward to soak it all in. There aren't many clouds now- a shame, really- but the sky is turning a pretty shade of purple, a soft line of pink creeping up through the thin blanket of clouds as the sun starts to set. He takes a left, aiming for one of the older trees with a thicker trunk that he can lean against. There's a little patch of grass and fallen leaves that he's taken a liking to in the past few weeks, he tries to find new places to sit so he can see the sky from as many angles as possible, and there are so many spots in this small forest he has yet to run out of new places. Saeran uses his foot to brush away some of the leaves on the ground at the base of the tree before he eases down into the spot. If he's going to smoke here he doesn't want to drop anything hot on the leaves scattered everywhere, there's no point in coming outside to relax if he's going to accidentally start a fire.

 

Saeran takes a deep drag from the cigarette, watching the soft, minty cloud dissipate in front of him. It's peaceful in this little nook, there are birds chattering quietly up in the trees and the wind caresses softly through his hair. It's a bit too cold to really enjoy the breeze, Saeran pulls his knees up to his chest to try and keep himself warm enough. Maybe he should have at least brought his jacket along with him, but it's too late now. He settles for huddling in on himself, the cigarette at least puts a little warmth in his chest when he takes a hit from it. The bark of the tree makes the back of his neck itch a little when he leans back completely, but he can ignore anything when he's outside.

 

The sky is consistent, its ever-changing. He can count on this one small comfort any day, and he can waltz outside whenever he wants, however long he wants. Saeran flicks the end of his cigarette, watching the little embers fizzle out in the dirt. There's a little less than half of it left, but he stubs it out anyway, more than done with the nicotine buzz that's thrumming through his head. He looks up again, the clouds have started to move slowly, stretching and scooting along at a leisurely pace. Thicker clouds are coming in, a deeper shade of a grayish purple and he turns his head just in time to see a soft flicker of lightning in the distance.

 

You can't just count the lightning strikes to tell how far away a storm is, there's more to it than just that, Saeran had looked it up ages ago. Still, he keeps looking toward the flicker of light and waits for another to flash across the sky before he starts to count.

 

One.

 

Two.

 

Three.

 

Four.

 

He hears footsteps before he can get to five, but he doesn't look away from the sky. There's a cloud that looks a little like one of the dog robots Saeyoung is working on. It's a little too lumpy, but maybe he could try and convince him to make things look a little bit softer, if he's trying to make things for kids they shouldn't be so pointy. The leaves nearby crunch under the weight of whoever's approaching, and Saeran finally looks away from the clouds.

 

“What are you doing?” MC looks comfortable in the chunky sweater she wears more often than not, her hands are hidden under her sleeves. “You're in a different spot than last time I saw you out here.” She's smiling at him, the little bits of hair left out of her bun are whipping around her face as the wind picks up.

 

Saeran looks back toward the sky, the lightning is coming in just a little sooner now. “It's been a while since I've been outside.” He answers, waiting until the soft rumble of thunder passes for him to speak. “I wanted to sit here for a while before it storms.”

 

MC looks upward with him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I heard it was supposed to get pretty nasty tonight, make sure you don't stay out here too long, okay?” She turns toward the bunker, looking over her shoulder. “Make sure you send me some Slapchats if I miss any cool clouds, we're having leftovers tonight.” Saeran just hums in reply, but that's all the answer MC needs to turn completely and resume her trip to the entrance of the bunker.

 

The clap of thunder is louder this time, and the wind is definitely picking up speed. The clouds are starting to roll in thick, and Saeran pulls his phone from his pocket and aims it up at the sky. The Slapchat app has a terrible camera, and no matter what filter he swipes to there's no way to really get rid of how grainy it is. There are too many trees in the picture for him to be satisfied with it, and he takes a few steps out to get a better picture, frowning at his phone until he gets it just right. He turns the timer up to the full ten seconds, looking at the darkening sky on the screen before he saves the picture for himself and sends it off to MC.

 

He doesn't even get his phone halfway into his pocket before it buzzes, and he checks the notification. MC has taken a screenshot and sent him a text warning him to come inside before it gets even worse out there. The sky flashes brighter this time, and the thunder is getting louder. Saeran watches for just a little longer, mouthing the numbers as he counts the seconds between flashes and the rumbles.

 

The storm is about seven miles away, he has the time to stand out here for a little longer.

 

**xvii.**

His phone has been buzzing consistently for twenty minutes. It's much too early for a discussion this intensive, and Saeran deeply regrets not logging out of the messenger before he had passed out last night. He picks up his phone and squints at the light of the screen, too bright even when it's turned down all the way.

  
There are over five hundred messages, mostly from Yoosung and Saeyoung it looks like.

 

707: ye so like as I was saying

 

707: u can just like

 

707: put that right on WeTube and then I can get you like

 

707: 900 subscribers to start out with

 

Yoosung★: You can't!!!

 

Yoosung★: I have to earn those myself, Saeyoung T_T

 

  
Are these all just between them? Saeran rubs the sleep from his eyes and taps the message box, nails clicking softly against the screen as he types.

 

 

Unknown: Have either of you two even slept?

 

707: HE'S BACK!!

 

Yoosung★: I don't want to get attention like Zen did...

 

Yoosung★: Oh! Saeran!

 

Yoosung★: We were wondering where you went.

 

Unknown: There are over 500 messages just from the past hour.

 

Unknown: I don't even want to scroll up to see how many there are from when I fell asleep.

 

707: me and yoosung have been scheming!

 

707: he's going to take on a side project for school~

 

707: our baby is growing up to be such a talented man...

 

Yoosung★: It's nothing special;;

 

Yoosung★: But the clinic I plan to do work-study with doesn't accept exotic pets.

 

Yoosung★: So if I can give people pointers on how to take care of their reptiles and birds,

 

Yoosung★: I hope that almost makes up for the clinic not wanting to take them in.

 

Unknown: what kind of vet clinic doesn't take in birds

 

Unknown: they're still animals.

 

707: that's what I'm saying!!

 

707: Saeran, convince Yoosung to let me hack his new WeTube channel.

 

707: we can save all of the birds and snakes together!!!

 

Unknown: Let him do what he wants.

 

Yoosung★: Saeran is standing up for me... ( //´艸`//)

 

Unknown: Don't use that blush emoji at me.

 

707: Saeraaaan

 

707: be nice

 

 

Something about this feels wrong, but Saeran can't quite put his finger on it. He reads through the earlier messages a few times, ignoring the notifications letting him know that the conversation is still going. Saeyoung starts to suggest ridiculous titles for the channel that Yoosung is apparently working on when he realizes, and he fixes it before he can lose his nerve.

 

Unknown has left the chat-room.

 

The profile page of the messenger is plain enough, with only the option to change his username, to put in a profile picture, and to change his username. A picture still feels to intimidating, Saeran doesn't even have more than 20 pictures saved to his phone- this is enough change for now. He stares at the log in screen for a while, hovering over the button. There's no reason to be so weirdly nervous about it, no one will even notice probably. At least now he can use this stupid thing without being responsible for someone's heart attack at 2 am. The soft, upbeat jazz of the messenger opening greets him along with a new line of text.

 

Saeran has entered the chat-room.

 


End file.
